


Promise Me (You Won't Let me Fall)

by Inky_Blackheart



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Violence, Attempted Murder, Cunnilingus, Enemies to Lovers, Flashbacks, Forbidden Love, Gay Robots, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Medical Procedures, Megatron is abusive, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Physical Abuse, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rape Recovery, References to IDW, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Starscream being Starscream, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 139,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Blackheart/pseuds/Inky_Blackheart
Summary: “I’ll protect you,” Optimus joins him, wrapping an arm around Starscream’s thin frame and turning his pointed, delicate face towards his, “to the end.”“I won’t let you die for me.” Starscream shakes his head free. “Too many have.”Optimus Prime and Starscream find themselves falling in love, despite being on opposite sides of a centuries-long war. When Megatron finally goes too far, Starscream has the rare opportunity to find true healing and love in another and Optimus has the chance to defeat his ancient enemy and fight for the one he loves.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream, Optimus Prime/Starscream
Comments: 197
Kudos: 261





	1. Prologue: Only The Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last days of the war and the first days of the Exodus, Starscream and Optimus contemplate their roles in the conflict, the way forward, and each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from a quote from the philosopher Aristotle: "Only the dead have seen the end of war"
> 
> CW: War violence, hospitals, medical procedures, domestic violence, mentions of rape
> 
> Honestly, there just should be a "Megatron being Megatron" tag

PROLOGUE

The bright lights of the med bay flickered overhead, and some errant piece of rock fell from the ceiling onto the silent patient below. Optimus Prime gently dusted Bumblebee off, his optics turning upwards. The Autobot bunker was continuously rocked by the shifting of Cybertron above. From the bombings to the armed conflict to the changes to the planet as dark energon took hold. He could only hope the power stayed on for the night in their secret base. Bumblebee would need another operation if he was ever going to speak again.

Bumblebee’s optics opened. He smiled upon seeing Optimus, his servo reaching towards his commanding officer and friend. Optimus took it, giving it a squeeze. “It is alright, soldier. Everything is alright.”

Bumblebee tried to speak, but nothing but a long chirp came out. Bumblebee’s optics widened in panic, and he tried to speak again. All that came out was another high-pitched beep. He tried to sit up, his servos going to his neck, feeling for what Optimus knew was no longer there.

“Shh. Do not try to speak, my friend.” Optimus gently pushed Bumblebee back down onto the gurney. He didn’t want his most loyal scout to re-open any of his stitches. He also didn’t want to risk damaging their most intact gurney. Most of their other ones were twisted and bent and covered in energon. It would not help Bumblebee to have to recover in on a half-broken bed. Bumblebee looked at Optimus in confusion. “You were injured. Do not worry. Ratchet will fix you up, just as he always does.”

Bumblebee did not seem convinced. He let out another long chirp and started looking around. He was jittery, his frame shaking as the scout tried to make sense of what was happening to him. He was repeating the same sound over and over like he was trying to speak one word but couldn't get it out.

“What is it, my friend? What do you need?” Optimus asked. Bumblebee seemed to ignore him, still looking around, his panic starting to get worse and worse the longer he was online. Optimus tapped his audial, activating his communicator. “Ratchet. He’s awake. He needs help.”

Ratchet didn’t respond to his call. It took only a few moments for the medic to enter the infirmary, strapping Bumblebee back down to the gurney. “It’s okay, Bee. Settle down. You’re going to open your stitches.”

Bumblebee took a deep intake, trying to settle himself. He let out the sound again. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you here.”

“Is he...”

“Yes,” Ratchet interrupted, “he’s talking about Megatron.”

Optimus listened again. It didn’t sound panicked, not in the way some of the new recruits spoke of the Decepticon commander. It was a warning. He was trying to tell Optimus something.

While Ratchet administered medicine, Optimus grabbed a data-pad and gave it to Bumblebee. “Write it down, and I will do my best to follow what you say.”

Ratchet unlatched Bumblebee’s arms to let him write. Bumblebee typed something out and passed Optimus the pad. _I didn’t tell Megatron anything_ was written down the page. Optimus looked at Bumblebee. The scout’s optics were wide, his helm going back and forth as he shook. After what he’d experienced, he was worried about what Optimus thought of him and wanted to prove his loyalty. Optimus supposed that it was the power of the Prime title, but he hoped his own leadership lived up to it.

Optimus smiled sadly. “I know. I would not fault you for doing so, with what you endured. But I trust you, Bumblebee. You need to rest now.”

Ratchet strapped Bumblebee back down. “I need to administer his medicine. It’s probably going to hurt.”

Optimus held out his servo for Bumblebee. Bee nodded at Ratchet. As the needle went in and the medicine started to work, Bumblebee squeezed Optimus’s servo tightly, almost hard enough to break the framework underneath. Finally, after what felt like ages, Bumblebee went still.

“He’s resting now,” Ratchet murmured, careful not to disturb his resting patient. “He’ll be out for a few cycles.”

“I can only hope he rests well.”

“Yes,” Ratchet said bitterly, “you can only hope.”

“I do not like your tone, Ratchet. If you have a problem with my actions, you can tell me. I do not appreciate that attitude, soldier.”

“I’m not a soldier. I’m a medic. You send these bots to the battlefield, and I patch them up if they make it back.” Ratchet turned and faced Optimus directly. His optics burned with rage. “I know you had the opportunity to kill Megatron. I know you’ve had several opportunities. And yet you don’t. So more and more of your soldiers get sent here, to die on my table. Or,” he looked at Bumblebee, “to suffer disfigurement.”

“You know that if I killed Megatron, he would become a martyr. Someone worse would take his place.” Shockwave, for instance. The brutal former senator had taken over Kaon, and Iacon was surely next. He could only hope that Alpha Trion and the elite guard could hold out until the war ended. Soundwave was a wildcard. He couldn’t say with any certainty what the mysterious telepath would do if Megatron died. The best-case scenario if Megatron were killed would be if Starscream took over. The seeker was famously unreliable, but he was also the most reasonable. He could be bribed, and he could be compromised with. But it was too much uncertainty to want to gamble on it.

“Honestly, the Decepticons would be better off in the servos of Starscream.” Ratchet echoed Optimus’s thoughts. “But don’t pretend for a nanosecond that this is about the war. This is about you.”

“I do not appreciate the insinuation.” Optimus narrowed his optics.

“And I don’t appreciate soldiers dying on my table because you refuse to kill your friend.”

Optimus wanted to rage in Ratchet’s face-plate. It wasn’t about that. It had never been about that. He had a standard he had to live up to. He had to make the hard choices that no one else could make. He had to be a paragon of justice and righteousness. He had to believe that everyone could be saved, and he had to minimize casualties on both sides of the war. Decepticons included.

But it wasn’t fair to Ratchet. His friend was hurting, and he could not blame him. But now was not the time for discussions of philosophy. He walked to the door to the med bay, gave Ratchet one last look over his shoulder, and walked out.

He was halfway down the hallway when he heard Ratchet following him. “Don’t you walk away from me, Prime!” Ratchet shouted, chasing his commanding officer down the hallway. Optimus didn’t look back. His CPU was still firing rapidly, his spark still pulsing with rage...he did not want to turn around and say something he may regret.

Then a wrench made contact with his back.

Optimus whirled around instantly, finding Ratchet a few meters away, his arm still outstretched and his servo empty. Optimus’s optics narrowed. His glare usually sent most bots, on either side, running for safety. Not Ratchet. The medic had seen more than Optimus ever would, tending to the wounded during this war from the pit. A set of optics no longer scared him. “You don’t get to run from this.”

“I am not running.”

Ratchet scoffed. “That’s what it looks like.”

“There is nothing more I can do for Bumblebee.”

Ratchet stomped down the hallway, sticking his digit into Optimus’s face-plate and growling. “You know damn well that’s not true. You know damn well you can stop this from happening to anyone else ever again.”

“I will not compromise the morals of the Autobot cause...”

“What morals, Prime? This is a war!” Ratchet bellowed, his voice turning static in Optimus’s audials. “A war where our enemies aren’t afraid to become of the lowest of the low. Bumblebee is a loyal soldier. He’s not the only one that Megatron’s brutalized, and you refuse to do right by them and kill him!”

“He is not the only Decepticon, Ratchet!” Optimus bellowed back. “Megatron is their leader, but he is not the only Decepticon enacting war crimes on their fellow Cybertronians. We Autobots are not immune from the corruption of battle. We cannot execute everyone who commits violence against another, no matter how brutal or unnecessary it is. There is a better way. There has to be.”

Ratchet deflated. “Lofty ideals are useless right now, Prime.”

“I know. But if I give up hope, what good will that do anyone? Bad things will still happen. The war will continue. Hope allows me to believe that the war will end, that things will be better in time, and that there will be justice for those who hurt other sentient beings.”

“You could have stopped at the second sentence, you know. I get the picture.” Ratchet crossed his arms and gave Optimus a wry grin. Optimus returned the grin. “In all seriousness, Prime...I see your point, about Megatron. I see your point about hope. But what I fear is that Megatron’s actions will only escalate the longer the war goes on. I’ve even heard rumours that he’s been beating and abusing some of the Decepticon high command. Mirage said that Starscream limped into battle last cyberweek and that he was covered in cuts. Soundwave had a dent in his forehelm.”

For some reason, the thought of Starscream being beaten by Megatron made Optimus very upset. Why, if you had an accomplished scientist and seeker in your army, would you treat them like they were disposable? Soundwave, even, was one of the last living telepaths on Cybertron. Optimus would protect that CPU at all costs. “I too have heard those rumours. I once tried to end this conflict quickly, but all we can do now is leave the planet until it can restore itself. I once thought the war would end, but all it has done is destroy our planet, and destroy lives.”

“You’re not kidding.” Ratchet shook his helm. “I hate the thought of leaving. It feels like a retreat. But it might be the only way to protect Cybertron. Primus. What have we come to?”

Optimus thought of the ages of Cybertron long past that he’d read about and archived. “Cybertron has been consumed by war for a long time, old friend. We will finally be the generation that ends it.” _And be the last generation leaving it’s people voiceless and mutilated_.

“We can only hope.” Ratchet sighed.

Cybertron was silent as Starscream circled Kaon’s city square. He couldn’t even hear the traffic of the nearby cities, nor the constant low hum of the machinery of the planet that was unnoticeable until it was gone. Honestly, Starscream liked Cybertron better when it was on fire. The dark energon Megatron had used to poison the core of the planet had rendered the once-bustling world utterly silent. Sure, he could still hear the far-off bombs denoting the ever-continuing siege of Iacon, but Kaon was as still as the grave. Starscream shuddered. It reminded him too much of Vos, how the city-state had been silent after the Autobots bombed it to oblivion before it’s people started crawling out of the rubble and screaming. Like he had.

The night glowed a sick purple. The dark energon had spread faster and farther than any of the Decepticons had ever imagined. Starscream could see in the distance that Tyger Pax was still glowing white and blue, but it wouldn't be long before that place was a wasteland too. He looked up, watching ships take off in the distance as he hovered above Kaon. Anyone who hadn’t chosen aside (cowards, as Megatron called them) were leaving for the colonies. Starscream pitied and envied them at the same time. They thought they could stop the war by staying out of it or thought they wouldn't be swept up in the massive conflict. Now, they were leaving, and Starscream was stuck on Cybertron, waiting patiently for the planet to die.

And hastening it himself.

Starscream lowered himself to the energon soaked ground below. An urge to look at the grand statue of Megatron in the centre of the city square struck him, but the way to the statue was blocked by the carnage that occurred short moments before. Starscream stepped around the bodies laid before him, accidentally kicking the odd cog or optic. Oh Xal, an optic. His trine had chased the Autobot resistance out of their hiding place in the tunnels and he’d been waiting in the square to slaughter them. The bodies of those who were not able to escape lay in front of the statue of the cause of their demise. It was like something out of an ancient tale, too poetic to be anything but fiction. Starscream gently turned one of the Autobots over with his pede. Their gaping mouths, dim optics and dried tears were too much to take.

Starscream finally paused in front of the statue, looking up at it. It seemed to repel the purple light permeating the planet. It seemed to repel any light that threatened to shine on it. Megatron stood with his fist raised proudly in the air, warning any who would threaten his reign while communicating his triumph over his foes. Starscream snorted. It looked more like Megatron was shaking his fist at Primus for refusing to hand over Cybertron on a silver platter. Warning the great non-existent being that, should he keep Megatron’s destiny from him, he would be forced to take drastic measures. With the purple glow around it and the bodies at the false idol’s feet, it appeared that was the option Primus had chosen.

Starscream looked up, seeing ship after ship leave the atmosphere. The unaligned, leaving for the colonies. Cowards, Megatron called them. Starscream both pitied and envied those bots. They had no stake in the grand battle, no desire to participate in this cyclic war of attrition, and were helpless as their home was destroyed. Still, they were free to leave. That was a luxury Starscream did not have.

He hoped, at least, that Megatron and Optimus would keep their word and leave the colonies alone. They’d need them if the planet would ever become viable again.

He hated himself for it, but Starscream felt a swell of pride. He’d executed Megatron’s orders perfectly, without any dark energon in his system. His trine had long since departed for Trypticon station, but he’d elected to stay behind. Kaon and Iacon were very similar in their layouts. He’d been subtly hinting to Megatron that he wanted to be put in charge of their planned siege of the city. Alpha Trion had it locked down tight, but Starscream was confident that he and his seekers could get through. He studied the vantage points, the potential hiding places for the Autobots, and the places he, Thundercracker and Skywarp could lie in wait for the perfect ambush. Yes, plans were forming in his helm. With Kaon as a practice run, Iacon would be easy. Surely Megatron would see that.

It was sad, how easy all of this was becoming.

“Starscream,” his comm crackled, “report.”

_Speak of the devil._ “Kaon is dead.” Starscream was surprised at how broken his voice sounded. “Just as you wanted.”

“Excellent. I will be there shortly.” The line died. Starscream sighed, wrapping himself with his long arms. His earlier pride had vanished. He’d wanted to save Cybertron from corruption, now corrupt it in a different way. This wasn’t what he wanted. This was evil. This was wrong.

And he’d allowed it.

He’d given Megatron his research without prompting, gave away the secrets the scientists of Trypticon Station had trusted him to carry, and they all died for it. Now, Cybertron too had fallen because of his treachery. He wanted to be sick, but there was nothing in his digestive tank to purge. Megatron had started rationing. They had enough dark energon to kill the planet, but not enough actual energon to keep the planet going. Sure, he could have dark energon, but it burned out of one’s system too quickly. It wasn’t fuel: it was a stimulant. Ironic, considering what it had done to the planet. Nothing stimulating was happening in the whole of Kaon, perhaps the whole of Cybertron. Perhaps Optimus would surrender. It was the only logical choice.

The sound of Megatron’s thrusters were deafening over the silence. His leader transformed and landed beside him, wrapping his massive arms around Starscream’s middle and pulling him into an embrace. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Megatron drawled, a satisfied smile on his face-plate as he looked out on the devastation he’d wrought. Starscream quietly murmured his agreement. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. He didn’t think Megatron really cared, honestly.

He was right. The tyrant leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of his helm. It brought Starscream no warmth. Nothing did. But, he knew it was the same for Megatron. His leader pulled away, a frown on his face-plate, his grip on Starscream still tight. “I expected more bodies.”

Starscream stiffened. Megatron didn’t have the dark look in his optics yet, the one that signalled a beating to come, but one could never be sure when his moods would change. It was better to start the flattery early, in these cases. “I know, my lord. Forgive me, I killed everyone I could. TC and Warp only counted about 20 who managed to escape...”

“I’m not angry at you, darling. I know you did your best.” Megatron patted a wing. _For now_ , Starscream thought, _you’re not angry_ _for now_. “My intel told me that there was a major Autobot resistance stronghold in Kaon, and that was an insult I needed to rectify. But, when I heard major stronghold, I expected a few more than this.” Megatron sighed. “The Autobots are going underground. They’re getting smarter. It’s getting harder and harder to root them out.”

“You poisoned the core. That’ll force them out of hiding when they need to find fuel.”

“True, Starscream. True.” Megatron removed his servos from Starscream’s person and put them on his hips, looking up with a pose very similar to his statue. “It feels like a hollow victory. In fact, it doesn’t feel like a victory at all.”

That, Starscream had to agree with. It didn’t feel like they’d made a difference, or like they’d won at all. The Autobots gained more supporters every passing moment, likely spurred by the poisoning of the planet. Potential supporters, the unaligned, were leaving Cybertron in droves. The glorious revolution Megatron had once envisioned, and had sold Starscream on, had fallen apart. All that was left was to reap what they’d sown.

“But, as I learned in the ring, one must take their victories where they can.” Megatron’s voice had the same timbre and sincerity that his first addresses to the people of Cybertron. Starscream wasn’t sure how he could go on with this amount of confidence, not after the devastating losses the Decepticons had suffered lately. “We’ve delivered the Autobots a message. If you will not stand with the new Cybertron, you will be cut down to make room for those who do.”

_The new Cybertron? Surely you don’t mean the dead, dying planet we’re standing on? It’s not new, it’s decomposing!_ Starscream did not voice his thoughts. He only responded, “I do hope the message is clear, then.”

“I don’t mind re-teaching it if it’s not.” Megatron smiled, revealing his pointed denta.

Starscream held back a shudder, but he could not hold back a scowl. _He can do his own dirty work, then_ , he thought. _He was lounging in his bunker writing speeches while I was out here working for the cause!_

Megatron’s comm went off. Starscream could hear the beep easily with their close proximity. “Soundwave.” He stepped back from Starscream, “Report. What do you mean, they’re leaving? What in the pit is an “ark”? No, We’ll be right there.” Megatron disconnected. “We’re needed.”

“My lord?”

“The Autobots are fleeing the planet. They must have left a trap behind. Optimus wouldn't leave without a reason. He’d fight to the last for this planet.” Megatron’s fist clenched. “We need to get back to Trypticon.”

Starscream nodded. He wasn’t sure how much good it would do. Even if Megatron (or, if he was being honest, Shockwave) had figured out how to transform the station into a ship, as the coding of the station said was possible, if the Autobots were already leaving, there was little they could do to follow them. If they used a space bridge, it would be folly to assume that they wouldn't blow it as soon as they were through. Megatron commed Soundwave back. “Prepare the brig. I anticipate many new arrivals.”

Starscream scoffed. The brig could barely hold one large mech, let alone all of Optimus Prime’s flunkies. And that was assuming that they caught up to them in the first place, and were able to take the ship. Their numbers were thinning out. It was unlikely that they’d be able to do little else than fire pot-shots at the “Ark”, whatever form that took. Megatron raised a brow-ridge. “Something funny, Starscream?”

Starscream briefly panicked, but he kept his fear inside. Instead, he smirked. “The idea of you talking prisoners and not simply executing the Autobots is very humorous indeed.”

Megatron burst into laughter. “Yes, that’s true. We need somewhere to put them until they’re killed, after all.”

Starscream said nothing. Nothing more was needed. Megatron was sated. They transformed and flew back to Trypticon like Unicron himself was at their heels.

#

The door to the bridge hissed as it opened, Megatron stomping through to the view-screen. Soundwave was already there, waiting for them, as were TC and ‘Warp. Starscream’s trine went to him immediately, standing on either side. Starscream was grateful for that, for them. He needed their strength. If the Autobots were indeed fleeing...that threw a wrench in everything. His plans, Megatron’s plans, the idea of the war ever ending...everything.

“What is going on?” Megatron growled, towering over Soundwave.

The telepath, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He simply raised a long digit and pointed at the screen. “Alert: Autobot vessel leaving the atmosphere of Cybertron,” he droned in his robotic voice. “Analysis: Energy signatures indicate that Optimus Prime and the Matrix of Leadership are on the vessel. Analysis: Autobots are fleeing Cybertron. Query: why? Directive: find the reasoning for departure.”

::What did he say?:: Skywarp asked over their private comm. ::I didn’t understand any of that.::

::You never do,:: Thundercracker retorted.

::He said,:: Starscream interrupted, ::That Optimus Prime and some of the Autobots are leaving Cybertron with the Matrix of Leadership. He says there must be a reason for them to leave the planet.::

::Isn’t that good, though?:: Skywarp scratched his helm. ::That means the planet is ours, right?::

::No, moron.:: TC scoffed. ::It means that the Autobots probably did set a big bomb that they don’t want to stick around for.::

::Would Optimus Prime really do that?::

::I don’t know, ‘Warp.:: Starscream focused back on the conversation Megatron was having with Soundwave. ::I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.::

“Do we have the fuel to follow them?” Megatron asked, gritting his denta. “They won’t escape from me! If they think that they will be spared my wrath for running away like cowardly turbofoxes, they are utter fools!”

“Analysis: Yes. Analysis: Using resources in this way would be dangerous. It would consume most of our emergency supply...”

“I am the leader of the Decepticons, not you!” Megatron snapped, raising his servo as if to backhand Soundwave. The telepath stood his ground. Starscream had to admire that. If he did the same, he’d have already been back-handed across the room. “We’re leaving! Transform and rise-up, Trypticon! Prepare the ship for take-off.”

_Take-off? What?_ Starscream thought, his spark tightening in his chassis. _What about the sieges? What about rebuilding?_ “My lord, I...” Starscream looked to his trine. They nodded. “My lord, I feel that is most unwise. Trypticon hasn’t transformed for millennia. It could be very dangerous! It might not work.”

“It will. I’ve been supplying the ship’s core with a steady supply of dark energon.” Megatron smiled to himself. “Haven’t you noticed? The whole station feels as if new.”

He had, in fact, noticed. He didn’t like it. “But sir...what about our plans? Our...our siege? We need the knowledge in the Hall of Records for the next phase of the plan.”

“Shockwave will stay behind and take the Hall. Killing Optimus Prime is our priority.”

_No_ , Starscream thought, _it’s your priority_. “Perhaps I should stay behind as well? I have some plans, some ideas, that might change the tide...”

“Shockwave. Will. Stay. Behind.” Megatron snarled, turning to Starscream. “I want you here, by my side.”

Starscream wanted to scream in Megatron’s face-plate, wanted to fight, but he didn’t. He just looked to the floor. “As you wish, my liege.”

“Good.” The station started to groan as it’s parts moved around. “Prepare to engage, Soundwave. Trace that ship, and prepare to begin the warp drive.”

“What do we do?” Thundercracker asked Starscream.

“We prepare to engage.” Starscream turned to leave the bridge. “Go to your quarters. That’s the most stable place in the ship right now.”

“What about you?” Skywarp reached out and rubbed Starscream’s arm.

“I should stay available, should our lord need me.” The hallways were empty. It seemed the mad scramble to prepare for take-off had been quick. That was something to say for the vehicons. They obeyed without question, and they were quick about it. “I should check the landing gear over. That is my duty, after all.”

“If you say so.” Thundercracker shrugged. “Call us if you need us.”

“I will,” Starscream promised. “Now get to your quarters. Enjoy your last few moments of home.”

His trine bowed and disappeared down the hall. Starscream watched them go. He felt bad, sending them away on false pretenses, but he wanted to be alone for his final glimpse of home. TC and Warp would tell him that these events weren’t his fault, that Megatron was responsible for the course of the conflict. He didn’t want that. He knew his own guilt. It was time to face it.

Starscream walked through the halls, coming to an area that used to be the observation deck. It still had the biggest windows. The bright, though dimming, lights of Cybertron disappeared as Trypticon left Cybertron’s atmosphere. Starscream stood at the hull window, watching his home as it disappeared from view. He knew, as the second in command, he was expected to be on the bridge with Megatron. He wondered how long it would take before Megatron realized that, and how brutal the resulting beating would be. It was worth it. Starscream reached out and gently touched the window, as if reaching for the world he was leaving behind. This could be the last time he saw Cybertron. It was a sobering thought, but it was true. If he was going to go shooting off into the great unknown in search of a mech he barely even liked, to fight battles and raze the universe to the ground, he wanted to save this image in his helm. Of Cybertron, dead and dying, but still a sparkling jewel in the black velvet sea of space.

A sound drew Starscream’s attention. It wasn’t stomping, so it meant Megatron hadn’t come to drag him off to some corner to hit. He tore his optics away from the window long enough to confirm to himself that it was Soundwave coming down the hall, then immediately went back to the window.

Soundwave came to a stop beside him, staring out the window with him. A soft ‘snick’ singled the removal of the other mech’s mask. Starscream turned to look at his comrade-in-arms. He hadn’t seen the other mech’s face-plate in a very long time. The same purple optics, the ones he’d been created with, stared out at the planet. Even without the mask, it was hard to tell what his comrade was thinking. He could have been sad, but he just as easily could have been relieved. “Analysis: Beautiful,” Soundwave whispered.

“Yes, it certainly is.” Starscream watched as Cybertron got harder and harder to see.

“Query: Your emotions.”

“Why does it matter?” Starscream scoffed.

Soundwave didn’t let up. “Query: Your emotions.”

Starscream sighed. “If I tell you, will you stop asking?”

“Soundwave: believes that to be obvious.”

“I suppose it is,” Starscream muttered, turning back to the window. “I’m going to miss the little silver dot. It’s my home. But I can’t help but feel...a certain sense of...no, not relief. Something else.”

“Query?”

“I was the one who gave Megatron access to Trypticon and dark energon. I was a political figure in Vos talking to the leader of the dangerous revolution. I’m not saying that what’s happened to Vos or Cybertron is directly my fault, but I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible.” Starscream could barely see Cybertron anymore, only a faint twinkling in the general direction of home. “In leaving...I guess I feel a little less guilty, now that I won’t be constantly reminded of my failings.”

“Analysis: You feel conflicted.”

“Yes. I suppose that’s one way to put it.” Starscream said. “What about you, Soundwave?”

“Query: My emotions. Analyzing...” Soundwave rubbed his chin. It was almost surreal to hear him talk like an automaton without his mask. He looked like any other Cybertronian rather than an anonymous force of order, but his vocal patterns gave him away. Starscream wondered if he’d always spoken like that, or if he’d chosen to. “Analysis complete. Conclusion: I feel conflicted, as well.”

“And why is that?”

“Answer: I never...fit in on Cybertron.” Soundwave looked at his pedes. “Answer: due to my telepathy, I was treated like a freak. Conclusion: Cybertron is good, but I am glad we are leaving bigots behind. I hope to find new meaning, out here among the stars.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Starscream straightened his back. “Are you glad that the planet is dying?”

“Answer: I have no feelings either way.”

“I thought as much.” Starscream stretched his spinal struts. “I suppose I should go to the bridge before Megatron calls for me.”

“Reporting: Megatron is focused on chasing the Prime. Conclusion: Megatron will not care if we stay here a little bit longer.”

“If you say so.” Starscream turned back to the window. Cybertron was gone. He couldn't see it at all anymore. He’d heard a rumour that Optimus Prime had done something to purge the dark energon and that the planet would be whole again once it was given time to reboot. He hoped that was true. It was just disheartening to imagine a dead place where home used to be, a black spot that once sparkled. Not for the first time, Starscream wondered if he’d chosen the wrong side.

“Jazz. Jazz, do you copy? Are you there?”

Optimus’s digit shook as he pressed the button that would send his voice across space to his second-in-command. He couldn't see Jazz’s ship anymore. He couldn't see anyone else’s ships anymore. He tried to pick up their frequency, but all he got was static. Still, he had to try. The signal was going somewhere, that much was clear. He knew, somewhere out in space, his friends were still online. That was all he could ask for.

He leaned back in his chair, bumping the wall, and looked up at the bright lights of the Ark. The ship was old, and the lights had that fluorescent, stark white quality you only saw in the Hall of Records at home, from before they switched to the blue-tinged lights that you could see from space, the ones that had become synonymous with Cybertron itself. They were the only lights the Autobots could procure to fix up the old ship. Getting off Cybertron was priority one. The communications room was very orange, from the floor to the ceiling to the chairs. It was the most cramped room of the ship too, with only enough room for two average-sized bots (or one Optimus Prime). Optimus Prime didn’t usually like being shoved into rooms too small for his frame, but he was grateful for the privacy.

He was a Prime. He couldn't let his soldiers see him weep.

There was no reply to his message. That didn’t matter. Jazz’s ship was salvaged from parts even older than his. Who knew when the message would get through.

“Jazz...I am sending you this message from the Ark. It is...it is the solar cycle after we fled Cybertron.” Optimus couldn't remember the star-date anymore. He couldn't remember anything anymore. “How did it all go so wrong, so quickly? I wish you were here, old friend. I could use your sense of humour. I could use your guidance.”

Optimus could still hear the alarms in his CPU, echoing through like they’d never actually stopped going off. He’d anticipated being followed by Megatron, but he hadn’t anticipated Megatron sabotaging the space bridge. He could still hear the screams of the other vessels over their speakers. They’d all gotten through the bridge, Megatron included, but they’d been scattered. Not a single shot had been fired before the bridge had overheated and it’s co-ordinates scrambled. In his spark, Optimus knew that everyone was in a different place. It hurt his spark. Not only were the Autobots scattered, the unaligned citizens now had to make long, impossible journeys to the colonies rather than the quick and easy escape offered by the space bridge. Cybertron was falling, because it’s citizens were falling. That was the only truth of the situation. A single tear slid down his face-plate.

He had to keep believing that Cybertron would be saved, that the voice of Primus had not led him astray. The planet would heal. They would return eventually. But he often wondered if he should not return with them. _Perhaps I should plan on never stepping on the face of my home again_ , he thought. _I am a symbol of the conflict that killed my world as much as I am a symbol of the righteous mercy that saved it._

“I do not know where my ship is, my friend, nor do I know the coordinates of yours. But I hold out hope that we will see each other again. I trust you to lead the Autobots should I be stranded on an unknown world. I trust you to do the right thing. You should have championed this cause, not me. I am starting to believe that the Matrix made a mistake.” Optimus let out a deep sigh. He needed to recharge soon, but he could not until he had a plan, a mission, for his team to work towards. “I will do my best with what Primus has seen fit to give me. It is all I can do.”

A red light flashed on the screen. The message was transmitted, but there was no information about its destination. It could be going to some other race that wouldn't be able to translate their language. It could be going to a satellite or some other unmanned craft. It didn’t matter. Optimus had hope. Somehow, Jazz would hear him. Somehow, Jazz would know what to do next.

There was a knock at the door. Optimus wiped his tear and pressed a button on his console to open it. The door slid open, revealing Arcee on the other side. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.” The femme gave him a quick salute.

“It is alright, my friend. Do you have news?”

“Yes, sir. We have a visual on a nearby planet. We think we can get there on the fuel we have, and all readings indicate the potential for energon, but...”

“You want my approval before you set a course.” Optimus finished.

“Yes, exactly.” Arcee nodded. She looked at Optimus’s console. “Is the message getting through?”

Optimus nodded. “I believe so. We will not know for a long, long time.”

“If anyone can intercept a message sent across space, it’s Jazz.” Arcee gave him a comforting smile. “I’ll let you finish your message.”

“I am almost done. If you would be so kind as to wait, we can walk to the bridge together.”

Arcee’s optics lit up. Optimus was reminded of his place, of the power his words held. He had to do his best for these fine mechs and femmes who relied on his guidance, just as he’d come to rely on the guidance of Alpha Trion, Jazz, and his CMO, Ratchet. “Yeah, sounds good, sir. I’ll wait out here.”

He’d have to address the ‘sir’ thing at some point. Arcee moved out of view, presumably to stand beside the door. Optimus went back to his console. “We may be landing soon, Jazz. When we do, I will get a better signal, and send you a longer message. For now...keep the faith, old friend. Till all are one.” He let go of the button and saw that the message was sent. There was nothing more he could do.

Optimus stood up, banging his shoulder against the wall, and stepped out into the hall. Arcee looked up at him. “Ready to go, sir?”

“Yes. Let us report to the bridge.” Optimus started to walk, keeping his pace so his smaller soldier could keep up. He looked down at her. She was so battle-hardened already. He could remember when Arcee had joined the Autobot cause, determined to fight for her beliefs no matter what the mechs around her said. He admired that. She was so bright-opticed, and so determined. Now, she was just determined. The death of Tailgate had left deep scars. “You do not have to call me "sir" all the time, you know.”

“Sir?” Arcee asked, looking up at him, blinking in confusion.

“We will be stationed together for a long time. I do not mind "sir", but it feels too formal for the situation we are in.”

“I can’t just call you Optimus.”

“Of course you can. I do not mind.”

“It just...doesn’t feel right.” Arcee shook her helm. “How does...” she thought for a moment, “boss-bot sound?”

Optimus chuckled. “I can live with that.”

#

The entire crew stood at attention when Optimus entered the bridge. “At ease,” he told them, not wishing to bother with formalities. Arcee left his side to join Cliffjumper at his console. “I am told that we have spotted a planet?”

Bumblebee let out a chirp and brought the viewscreen up to the main window. Optimus stepped forward to get a better look. It was a pretty world. Blue, bright, and one could sense the life growing on it, even from their distance. “Our records indicate that this is the planet known as Earth,” Ratchet reported.

That was odd. Optimus’s data showed that this was a rather remote system. He was surprised there was a record of it at all. “Has there been prior contact?”

“A few times, millennia ago.” Ratchet answered. “The planet had some less evolved organic life-forms at the time, similar to our mechanimals. We believe that the dominant species is now a race known as humans. They are slightly more evolved, but only just. They have limited weapons capabilities and limited space travel capabilities. We also have no indications that any other race but ours has ever visited the planet, so it’s safe to assume that they don’t belong to any galactic councils nor have regular contact with non-terrestrial groups.” Ratchet pressed a key on his console. “We also have readings indicating the presence of energon on this planet.”

Optimus looked at the planet on the screen. He knew that landing on a populated world was a risk. There was no guarantee they’d be accepted, especially since Earth’s people had no contact with extraterrestrials. However, there wasn’t enough fuel left to get anywhere else. They couldn't pass this world by with any reasonable assumption that they’d make it to another. If they did this correctly, they could lay low on Earth until they were ready to leave. It would likely be less than a quartex. “Understood. We will contact the Earth authorities, make them aware of our arrival, and then we will land on the planet. We will use our alt-modes to hide in plain sight, gathering resources until we can safely leave.”

“Are you sure, boss-bot?” Arcee asked.

“Boss-bot?” Cliffjumper raised a brow-ridge.

“It is our only real option, Arcee. While I want to keep the people of Earth safe, I also cannot discount the safety of our squad. Take us down, team. I will prepare an address for the authorities of Earth.” Optimus nodded, trying to reassure himself that he was making the right decision. It was the only decision, but that did not make it the right one by default. However, his duties were to Cybertron and it’s people first, not the unknown organics of a fringe world. He would keep Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Arcee and Cliffjumper safe, no matter what the cost.

“Do you think the ‘Cons followed us?” Bulkhead asked. “We haven’t seen ‘em for solar cycles now, but Megatron was really determined to find us.”

That was something Optimus had to consider. If the Decepticons found them, it would put Earth at risk. The dominant species would not like that. Freedom was the right of all sentient beings, and Megatron would not take it from another world. He made up his processor that he would defend the planet he was planning to make his temporary home. “If they have, we will fight,” Optimus announced. “We will run no longer. As long as we are on Earth, we will protect it. That is our mission now.”

The assembled Autobots mumbled their agreement, the bridge exploding in a flurry of activity to get the ship to land. Optimus stood resolute, answering any queries and guiding as best he could. For the first time since the war escalated, he felt sure of something in his spark. He had a good feeling about Earth, deep in his spark. It was irrational, and probably a trick of his CPU, but he had a feeling that something very, very good was going to come of landing on Earth. He was looking forward to seeing what it was.

“Starscream.” The seeker looked up from his experiment at the sound of the intercom. Megatron’s voice, even as it crackled over the static, echoed around the empty laboratory. Starscream winced. As if Megatron’s voice didn’t reverberate around his CPU already. It didn’t help that he lacked his usual distractions. Megatron had requisitioned almost all his equipment, turning it over to Knock-Out to re-purpose as medical devices. Which was fair, Starscream had to admit, but all he had been left with was what he needed to make synthetic energon. _And that was going absolutely splendidly_ , he noted, looking at the colour of the...stuff in the test tubes. It glowed a sick bright green, the colour of Iacon at night, but it still wasn’t right. It meant the synthetic energon was too unstable to be viable. It might power their weapons, sure, but it wasn’t going to fuel anyone’s frames.

It was a waste of time, and everyone knew it but Megatron. Starscream was a seeker. Of energon. He could be seeking, researching, doing the task that he’d been completing successfully for millenia...even without his trine, he could still train some of the other flyers to be semi-competent enough to help. But no, Megatron knew best.

_As usual_.

“Starscream!” Megatron snapped.

Starscream sighed and set down the test tube. “Yes, my liege?”

“Your presence is requested on the bridge.”

“My lord, I am in the middle of the synthetic energon trials.” _That you requested_ , he thought bitterly. “I will be a cycle, at most, if you would allow me some time...”

“Your presence is requested on the bridge now,” Megatron growled. “Unless you think that another failure is worth incurring my wrath.”

Starscream wanted to protest, to tell him that it wouldn't be a failure if he could just have some of his equipment back, or have time to work on it, or that there wouldn’t be as many failures if he could just focus his efforts on seeking instead of being stuck in a laboratory for solar cycles on end, toiling away at a task impossible for the most gifted scientists on Cybertron had never figured out...no, it wouldn't do to think of that now. “Yes, master. I’ll be there shortly.”

“See to it that you do not dawdle.” Megatron killed the feed.

Starscream grabbed a polishing rag hanging from the back of his chair and gave himself a quick once-over. He knew why he was ‘requested’. He at least wanted to look good for his usual humiliation and beating.

#

The doors opened with their usual hiss, but slightly slower than usual. The ship wasn’t being maintained, Starscream realized. All their efforts were going towards finding dark energon, or the Autobots, whichever came first. The Nemesis was unfortunate collateral damage.

Shockwave exited as soon as he came in, giving the seeker a curt nod on his way out. Perhaps his fellow scientist didn’t want to witness the coming carnage out of respect. Still, he did nothing to stop it. Starscream appreciated the gesture, but it was hollow. Much like he was rapidly becoming.

“My liege,” Starscream called at Megatron’s turned back. “I’ve arrived, as requested.”

Megatron growled in response. Starscream rolled his optics. Megatron wasn’t happy. What a fragging surprise. When was he ever happy? They hadn’t even interfaced in quartexes.

With Starscream’s full and total consent, that is. He’d broken the lock and marched in just two nights ago, waking Starscream from a pleasant dream to roughly shove his spike straight up his valve without any warning or preparation. He was still walking funny. And even that, that total, unwavering control, didn’t make Megatron happy. He was at a loss, at this point. There was nothing, nothing, that would change that sour expression. “Would you like to hear about the synthetic energon experiments? I haven’t found an alternative fuel source yet, but we may be able to power our weapons with the latest batch...”

“That is not what I assigned you to find.” Megatron’s voice was low, dangerous. And Starscream was completely numb to it. He only shrugged in response.

“Sometimes, in science, you find things you didn’t expect to. Either way, it wasn’t a fruitless effort.” Starscream quirked a brow-ridge. “Why did you call me here, exactly?”

“Are you talking back, Starscream? Did your last punishment scramble your CPU?”

_Punishment. That’s what he’s calling it, now_. Starscream remained as calm as he could. “No, my liege. I was wondering why you had pulled me away from my assignment. Is that not a fair question? I have much work left to do. Work that you assigned me.”

“I want to know why you’ve been neglecting your duties as the second in command of this army.”

Starscream blinked. “I haven’t.”

“Then why hasn’t the ship been maintained? Why have the energon checks gone incomplete? Why...”

Starscream stopped listening. Asking Breakdown to check on their energon supply was probably a mistake, and he would own up to that. But those other tasks could easily be completed by other soldiers, ones without the training he had in spades. Megatron was just angry about his own failings as their commander in chief, and it was much easier to blame it all on Starscream than accept his own faults. As. Fragging. Usual.

“Starscream, are you listening?” Megatron asked, his voice dripping with condescension.

Starscream saw no point in lying. “No.”

Megatron snarled. “And just why is that?”

“Because this is just pointless. I’m more useful back in my lab or doing actual commanding than sitting here listening to you complain. Give me an assignment and I’ll do it. Otherwise...” Starscream saw Megatron’s lip twitch. Maybe he was better off going with his usual route, pathetic grovelling flattery. “Master. I know we are stretched to our limits, and you are doing a most excellent job of keeping the Decepticons together. Under anyone else’s leadership, we would have crumbled.” _Except mine_ , he thought. “But right now, we need a united front against the Autobots. Arguing like this won’t solve anything. Now, I have some ideas that would help us get back on track, but...”

“But nothing,” Megatron growled. “You are not the leader, Starscream. You do not get a say in how I run my army. You do as I command, and little else.”

“Then why am I here at all?” Starscream demanded. “You recruited me for my abilities as a seeker and a scientist, and use neither. If you wanted someone to blindly follow orders, you should have promoted Skyquake.”

“I recruited you for a good lay.” Megatron’s smirked made him sick. _There’s the humiliation_ , Starscream thought. _Invalidate my points by reducing me to a sex object. Well played, Megs_. “Something you have been providing in spades. That’s the only reason I haven’t chucked out out the airlock yet.”

Starscream forced himself not to react. The only sign he was was bothered was the stiffening of his wings. “Are we done, here? I tire of your games, Megatron. I wish to go back to my lab, so if there’s nothing else...”

“You don’t get to walk away from me!” Megatron bellowed. “I’m not done.”

“I am.” Starscream hissed. “Perhaps the Autobots will be interested in having a seeker on their side.”

Megatron’s optics burned with bright fury. “You wouldn't.”

“If not...I wonder if Optimus Prime would appreciate a bed warmer. I bet he...”

Starscream didn’t finish the thought before Megatron had punched him across the room.

It disgusted Starscream how used to this he was. He barely even felt his rough landing on the floor, despite landing on his sensitive wings. Maybe that was because Megatron had started with a blow to the helm, and his CPU had already shut down some of his pain sensors. He let out a small wince, his servos scrambling to push himself up again and stand, to at least look Megatron in the optics while he beat him into unconsciousness.

“You miserable aft-licker! You sorry excuse for a Decepticon! I am twice the mech Prime is!”

Megatron raised his massive pede and brought it down on Starscream’s chassis, stomping the seeker into the floor hard enough to dent it. Starscream only just managed to keep himself from screaming. His alarms screamed that his chassis integrity was failing. He muted them. They weren’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. Besides, he was going to get hit worse if he couldn’t hear what Megatron was bellowing.

“This is your fault!” Megatron snarl-shouted, removing his pede from Starscream’s chassis and kicking him in the side. “You’re a fragging seeker, and you can’t even do that right!”

“You refuse to let me seek,” Starscream said weakly.

Megatron paused. “What did you say?”

Emboldened, Starscream shakily got to his pedes. “I said, you refuse to let me seek. I have asked to train some of our flyers in seeking, as...” Starscream took an intake, so he could steady his voice, “as my trine recently perished, and you refuse. I ask to go on seeking missions, and you refuse. I map out potential energon deposit sites, and you don’t send any teams to investigate. I’m doing what I can, but you make the decisions. Our lack of success is entirely your fault.”

Megatron took a swing at Starscream with a growl, and Starscream stepped aside to dodge. He raised his null rays and pointed it at Megatron’s helm. Megatron stumbled before his programming righted his frame, and he turned to face Starscream. Starscream’s legs started to wobble, but his gaze was steady. “Shut up.”

“I’m tired of you blaming the failings of your leadership on me. I left everything for you, followed you across the universe, for what? For you to ignore my expertise and scientific background, is disrespectful. For you to beat me because you failed is unacceptable.” Starscream knew the vehicons and Soundwave were watching, but he wasn’t afraid. If Soundwave wanted to do something, he’d do it. He didn’t care if Megatron was humiliated. He didn’t care if he was. “You can’t beat dark energon out of me, Megatron. Why don’t you put that energy into actually looking for it?”

Megatron charged Starscream, striking him before he got activate and fire his null rays. Starscream took the blow, refusing to move, and turned back to Megatron. He wiped the energon off his lip. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Megatron sneered down at him. “You should know by now that it’s not.”

Starscream rolled his optics. “An empty threat, as always.”

Megatron let out a roar and ran towards him. Luckily for Starscream, he was knocked unconscious within the first three hits.

#

Starscream onlined as he often did: strapped down to a gurney in the infirmary with tubes sticking out of his middle. He used to panic whenever he awoke there, but he’d also grown used to this, just as he had to the beatings that put him in there. He looked around the med bay. Knock-Out was clearly elsewhere, as he couldn’t hear the obnoxious tune the medic insisted on humming. The clattering of cans of oil to the ground put the smart credits on Breakdown. Starscream started pulling out the tubes. The sooner he finished this, the sooner he could get back to being screamed at for doing his job.

He couldn’t blame Breakdown for his clumsiness. The med-bay, now containing most of Starscream’s equipment, was cramped. It made it seem even darker than it already was, despite being the best-lit room of the Nemesis. Even his initial twitch as he came online before his systems could finish their diagnostic, knocked over a nearby table, sending scalpels and drills clattering to the ground. Starscream winced. He hoped those hadn’t been used on him. Was it really that bad? It didn’t feel as bad as it had before...

Sure enough, Breakdown wandered over as soon as he heard him moving, silently standing behind him to help him disconnect. Once he was free, Starscream turned to Breakdown. “Thank you for your...assistance.”

“You’re welcome?” Breakdown raised a brow-ridge. “I didn’t do much. You took care of most of it, and KO took care of you before that.”

“Speaking of, where’s KO?” Starscream felt the air between his spinal struts pop as he stretched his back. He rarely saw KO out of the med bay unless Megatron requested it. He wondered what his glorious leader needed the medic for this time, conveniently at the same time that Starscream needed medical help. Funny that.

“He’s putting the Vehicons through decontamination, since that didn’t get done after their last away mission, and then he’s going to perform maintenance checks on the main hull, and then I think he said he was going to assign tomorrow’s chore schedule.” Breakdown shook his helm. “I’m glad everyone thinks I’m dumb. No one ever asks me to run myself ragged like that.”

“Isn’t the chore schedule Megatron’s job?” And he was picky about it, too. He had them scheduled to the last detail, cyberweeks in advance. Anyone who wanted to change it had to ask him in person and send him a form to approve. It was one of the few bureaucratic things that Megatron insisted they follow.

Breakdown went quiet. “What?” Starscream asked. “Is he too busy?”

“Megatron...Megatron has left the Nemesis for an undetermined amount of time.” Breakdown looked at his pedes. “You were present on the bridge when he left, I thought you knew.”

“I was likely already unconscious at that point.” Starscream rubbed the bridge of his optics, where the optic line was pounding. One of the hits must have been right between the optics. That was new. “He stormed out, didn’t he.”

Breakdown nodded. “Yeah. He was ranting about dark energon and resources and said we were all useless and he was better off on his own.”

“Wonderful.” It was, in a way. He was looking forward to being able to just do his job and put out fires for an entire cyberweek. Still, fear stabbed at his spark. While it was not a good time for him to leave, Starscream wasn’t looking forward to Megatron coming back. He’d blame his failure to find anything on them too, and it would be Starscream’s problem once again. “He’ll be back within the quartex.”

“Whatever you say, Screamer. Anyway,” Breakdown said, “Soundwave divided up Megatron’s usual duties. He wanted you to sign off on them, once you onlined again.”

“Why would he need that?” Starscream needed a cube. Preferably of high grade, but he’d take anything at this point.

“Are you...was there another reassignment?” Breakdown sounded very confused. “You’re still the second in command, right?”

“Yes?”

“Then...you’re in charge, aren’t you? Since Megatron’s gone?”

He was. He definitely was. Starscream started to laugh. It started as a chuckle, but soon devolved into hysterics. Breakdown started to back away slowly, but Starscream didn’t care. All his scheming, of wanting to take the Decepticon command for himself, and here it was, gifted on a silver platter because Megatron was too proud to let anyone else help the cause. It was perfect. It was insane. It was...so utterly Megatron. Starscream doubled over, ripping a stitch in his spinal strut. Breakdown started to panic and tried to get him back on the gurney, but Starscream waved him off. “Let it bleed. Nothing can hurt me, now. Nothing can stop me now!”

“But you said...”

“Whether or not Megatron is gone for cyberweeks, solar cycles, or quartexes, I finally have the opportunity to get this vessel into fighting shape, because I will no longer have to endure Megatron’s abuse.” Starscream stood up, winced, and gestured to Breakdown. “I require pain medicine. Immediately. I must go to the bridge.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your last dose was...”

“Very well.” Starscream straightened his spinal struts. “Then get me a polishing rag.”

“Why?” Breakdown asked incredulously, walking slowly to KO’s supply of polish and rags, never taking his optics off the seeker. He grabbed one, ran some polish over it, and passed it over to his commanding officer. Didn’t that feel good. “KO said you’d already polished. He can tell.”

“Because,” Starscream ripped the rag from Breakdown’s servos, “I wanted to look good so that my humiliation hurt less. Now...I don’t want to address my soldiers looking any less than my best.”

#

Starscream hid his limp as best he could as he entered the bridge. He didn’t want his first time walking into the command centre to be tainted by a walk that didn’t command respect. The bridge...felt new, almost. The dark grey metal and curved ceiling didn’t seem as claustrophobic. It seemed less shadowy, even. The purple lights of the Nemesis bridge were so familiar, but they seemed different, now, without the overbearing presence of Megatron taking up the air. Brighter, maybe. The vehicons, working away at their consoles, barely looked up as he entered the room. Soundwave gave him a quick nod, but that was the only acknowledgement he received. _Well,_ he thought, _that won’t do. It may be my first_ _solar cycle_ _, but it’s time to do some commanding_.

“Soundwave: It is good to see Commander Starscream. Query: how do you feel?”

“Hello Commander Soundwave. I feel excellent. Status report.” Starscream paused before the view screens, looking both at the immediate expanse of space in front of him and at the scanners displayed on either side.

Soundwave, to his credit, only hesitated for a moment. “Status: query,” His monotone voice, quiet as usual, was a welcome, grounding familiarity. He addressed Starscream like he addressed Megatron, and that was most appreciated. “Status: all systems functioning as normal. Status: energon tank at 51 percent capacity. Status: all away parties onboard Nemesis. Conclusion: Nemesis is at maximum capacity and functioning optimally.”

“The energon tank is a little low,” Starscream muttered, stroking his chin. 51 percent wasn’t as full as he’d like it to be, and it could dip to emergency levels if they did not fill it soon. “All away parties are aboard?”

“Affirmative.”

“Hmm. I want you to initiate a scan for any and all...unusual energy signatures.”

“Query?”

“If by chance, there are energon deposits buried in meteorites or on other planets, it might not present as energon at first scan. As soon as you’ve found a signature, I want a party sent out to investigate it.”

“Affirmative. Initializing: writing programming to begin the scan.”

“Much obliged.” A ping on the scanners diverted Starscream’s attention. They’d picked up a ship, but it wasn’t a Decepticon. Nor was it Megatron. It was Autobot.

“Uh, Commander?” One of the vehicons asked. “Do you want us to intercept the ship?”

“Does this floating piece of slag have weapons?”

“Yeah, but it would drain our energon reserves to 45% to fire on it.” The same vehicon, Steve, Starscream believed, answered.

“Starscream: Soundwave has completed a telepathic scan of the enemy ship. Result: Optimus Prime is aboard.”

“Maybe we should intercept,” Steve whispered to another vehicon.

“No, we should not. We are not equipped to deal with Optimus fragging Prime right now.” He rolled his optics. “That’s the kind of fool-hardy thing that our previous leadership would do.”

“I mean, he is our enemy, right?”

“Silence, Steve. I do not need nor want your opinion.” Starscream glared at the dot on the scanner. Optimus Prime, huh. He’d only really met the other mech in person three times, and those weren’t the most...in-depth interactions. Prime’s reputation truly did precede him. He was an interesting being, walking the perfect line between a paragon of peace and an agent of violence. Megatron was obsessed with him, and while Starscream would not be intervening or continuing that cycle, he could see the appeal.

He was also a handsome mech, devastatingly so, but that wasn’t a concern for Starscream. His spark was firmly focused on the mission and the safety of his crew.

Besides, it would spite Megatron to know that they could have taken out his favourite foe, but didn’t. “But if you must know, Steve, and the crew, because I know you’re all listening, I have no interest in engaging in battle in our only home. It goes down, the cause goes down. We will track it, but we will not engage until it lands. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Commander!” Steve squeaked, giving Starscream a hasty salute.

“Notify me of the results of the scan. I have business to attend to.”

Soundwave turned to him and tilted his helm. “Query: what business must be attended to?”

“If I’m acting commander in chief,” Starscream replied, smirking darkly, “I’m going to need bigger quarters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo-boy. 
> 
> This fic was originally posted without this prologue, but in the process of re-writing it, I realized that it needed a little something something extra. I wanted to establish the mood, the motivations, and the state of the Cybertronian race before getting into the mushy stuff and the angst upon angst. So, if you're reading this for the first time without knowledge of the previous draft, I hope you enjoy it. If you're reading this for the first time with knowledge of the previous draft...I hope you forgive this brief detour. It's relevant, I promise. 
> 
> Full disclosure: I HATED the novels written in the aligned continuity and the whole time I was reading it, I was thinking of what I would do instead and how much better it could be (I'm a bit of a back-seat author, haha) and so...thank you for indulging my fix-it. ❤️
> 
> It just gets darker from here, folks. Please, take care of yourselves while you read. I will always give content warnings, but you are the only judge of your mental state. If you feel a certain type of way, please, get help. Stop reading. Here is a resource for you, if you need advice: https://www.helpguide.org/articles/ptsd-trauma/coping-with-emotional-and-psychological-trauma.htm
> 
> Also!
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	2. Chapter One: Bruise and Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus contemplates his love for his enemy, and Starscream contemplates the sacrifices he makes for Optimus.
> 
> Beginning of Part One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Implied/referenced sexual assault and abusive relationships
> 
> Chapter title taken from "I'm Not Scared" by Tomberlin (https://youtu.be/o1miEWPdfR8)

CHAPTER ONE

Bruise and Bleed

**BEGINNING OF PART ONE**

_Starscream is beautiful_ , Optimus thought, watching the seeker calmly lay beside him. Optimus thought this often when he watched his “enemy” dance through the sky, or crawl along the sandy Nevada ground begging for forgiveness or protection. The elegance in both his exaltation and desperation scared Optimus. Beauty in war was always dangerous. It let comrades get away with atrocities and let enemies get away alive. And Starscream was both and neither at any given time. Optimus cherished the moments in-between, where he could just take in the lovely Decepticon’s beauty, without any shots being fired or lives being lost.

The “neither” was admittedly one of Optimus’s greatest shames. There was no excuse for what he and Starscream did together in the forests between their bases, not war or loneliness or connection. It was sheer desperation, sheer lust. At least, that’s how it started. And Optimus loved it, loved the press of Starscream’s thin frame against his own, loved the noises he made when he came undone. What he loves most was Starscream’s surprising gentleness, a willingness to cuddle and talk after the act itself was finished. There was no excuse for any of this. It was only emotion, pure and untainted.

The moon hung full above them as they lay next to each other in a meadow surrounded by tall trees, casting the forest in an ethereal glow. Starscream smiled wistfully as they watched the stars together, reminiscing about their voyages to some and desire to explore others.

“When the war is over,” Optimus suggested, “we can go together.” Starscream silently stared off into the sky. He sat up, pulling away from Optimus, drawing his knee-joints up to his chassis. “Star?” Optimus asked. “What’s wrong?”Starscream bit his lip. Optimus reached out and rubbed a reassuring servo over his lover’s quivering wings. “It is Megatron, is it not.” It wasn’t a question, after all their time together, but still, Starscream nodded hesitantly. “Is he...”

“I told you never to ask me that!” Starscream snapped, shrugging away Optimus’s servo.

Optimus retracted his servo, blinking at Starscream. The seeker didn’t have to tell him what Megatron was planning. It was clear from his reaction that he was. But, they’d agreed long ago to keep the Decepticon leader out of...whatever this was, for the protection of both of them. “That is...I am sorry, Starscream. I forgot myself.”

“It’s alright. I forgive you.” He slowly moved back down, resting his helm on Optimus’s chassis. “It’s just...The war will never end, Optimus, as long as Megatron still lives. You know this as well as I do.”

Optimus nodded. “Yes, but I choose to be hopeful that this conflict will cease and peace will be achieved. I have to.”

“Without killing Megatron?”

“I do not wish to kill anyone without necessity. You know that. But, if it necessary that he must die for the cessation of our war, then I will do what I must.”

Starscream looked away. “I know.” _I won’t be free until you do_ hung in the air between them.

“If you left, and stayed with me and the Autobots...” Optimus knew the value Starscream added to the Decepticons, whether or not their leader saw it. He also knew that if he had approached Starscream when he was still blinded by his cause, not when he had pulled away of his own accord, they would never have started doing this. But he had. He had started this on his own. Perhaps there was a chance he could leave the Decepticons entirely. Starscream was a deadly enemy. However, if he were to join the Autobots, use his abilities to help the side of good…

“Optimus, stop.” Starscream sat straight up. He stood, shaking his locked limbs, and walked further into the clearing. “I can’t. He’ll kill me.”

“I’ll protect you,” Optimus joined him, following Starscream wrapping an arm around his thin frame and turning his pointed, delicate face-plate towards his, “to the end.”

“I won’t let you die because of me.” Starscream shook his helm free. His optics gleamed with sadness too profound to shed tears over. “Too many have.”

Optimus remembered that Starscream lost his entire city at the beginning of the war, his entire people. Starscream also had a squadron once, and a trine. Brothers in arms whose ends had never been accounted for. Sometimes Starscream hinted to the cause of their demise but never elaborated. It would hurt too much, Optimus realized. Starscream, for all his brutality and cruelty, does not like when those close to him suffer for no reason. They differ in this respect. Optimus abhors all suffering, purposeful or not.

Optimus grabbed Starscream’s face-plate again and pressed their lips together. Starscream whined, too sore to start again but fighting a desperate need to. Optimus turned the kiss chaste, pulling away and kissing Starscream’s forehelm. Only a kiss and the seeker was swooning in his arms. His lover’s responsiveness was one of his favourite things about the wrongness they committed.

Starscream smiled at him before stepping back, looking at the ground sadly. “I have to go. I’ve stayed too long.”

“Stay just a few clicks longer,” Optimus asked, “please.”

“He’ll wonder where I am if I’m gone too long.” The consequence of such an action was unspoken between them. Optimus knew where the scratches on Starscream’s wings and throat came from. The scratches along Starscream’s thighs that he observed as the seeker stood, however, were from his servos. His pride in making the marks was equal to his shame. Starscream started walking away, the sound of his inner gears responding to his T-Cog impossibly loud in the quiet clearing.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Optimus said, not for the first time. Starscream stopped.

“I deserve him,” Starscream whispered, turning back to Optimus with fluid in his optics, “for all my sins.” With that, Starscream transformed and flew away, leaving Optimus reaching out towards an empty sky.

It hurt, but Optimus was used to this. He knew it hurt worse for Starscream. Sometimes when Starscream came to him all he wanted was to be held, his body broken from the abuse he suffers at the servos of Megatron. Optimus knew that using Megatron’s attraction to him to save himself from worsening beatings couldn’t last forever. Megatron was going to kill him. It was only a matter of time. But Optimus knew that Starscream would never leave.

He didn’t think it was because Starscream loved Megatron. He knew very well that anything warm the seeker felt for his tyrannical abuser had hardened into hatred. It was that Starscream had known no other life but him since the war began. He also suspected that Starscream helped hold the army together, and he wondered if Starscream thought he could change it from the inside. Joining the Autobots was too big of a change, and Optimus wouldn’t leave them either. Their factions needed them too much, as much as they needed each other. “Doomed” wasn’t a word that Optimus liked, he really didn’t believe that anything was really and truly beyond saving, but he got closest to that word when he thinks of his relationship with Starscream.

Optimus held onto his time with his lover, saving his memories to his data banks, and saw how precious it really was. As long as Starscream kept going back, Optimus feared that he would lose him to the well of All-sparks forever.

The hangar was empty when Starscream landed. He transformed out of his alt mode and let out a sigh of relief. Sometimes Megatron would be waiting for him when he returned, screaming in his face-plate and demanding answers. He had time to prepare himself, to come up with excuses, and try to wipe off the happy grin he often had after seeing Optimus.

Starscream exited the hangar to an empty hallway. Well, almost empty. He could see a couple of Vehicons up ahead moving some large machine. Starscream raised a brow-ridge, striding towards them to see the commotion. However, as soon as he got to the other end of the shadowy hallway, the Vehicons were gone. He heard the hiss of a door closing, telling him where they’d gone. Curious, he thought, but not enough to investigate. It could have been nothing. Nothing worth prolonging his inevitable beating for, anyways.

Things seem to be moving so quickly since Megatron returned, Starscream thought. It seemed like only the solar-cycle before that Megatron had come through a space-bridge ranting and raving about Unicron, and when he’d returned to life after....after Starscream finally thought he was free of him. He was a little envious. He’d been holding the Decepticons together, but he could never motivate his miserable grunts to do anything as fast as “the plan” was moving. He hoped...no, he had to make sure it was what he thought it was. It would be pointless to risk his own neck for nothing.

The activity and pede-traffic of the ship increased the closer he got to the bridge. By Starscream’s count, he was only away from the ship for three groons at most. He wondered what could have happened to prompt such a flurry of activity.

Luckily for him, the sound of him entering the bridge was drowned out by the chaos. Starscream spotted Megatron talking to Soundwave, angrily gesturing as they looked over a data-pad. Starscream crept closer, listening for any details he could.

“How many can this machine process?” Megatron asked his telepathic third-in-command. Soundwave must have answered using his abilities because Megatron continued. “That’s not good enough. We need more. We can’t keep this army running without it. There’s a reason we’re here, Soundwave. Get it done.”

 _Yes,_ Starscream thought, rolling his optics, _and that reason is me, choosing to land here_. But Megatron didn’t need to know that. The despot continued. “I don’t know, we’ll figure out where to put their husks after they’re dead. If we do this right, there won’t be much left.”

Starscream’s pede-steps clacked on the floor as he approached. Megatron’s helm snapped up at the sound. He immediately quieted, dismissing Soundwave with a wave of his servo. Soundwave nodded at Starscream and went to his usual console. Starscream returned the nod before turning to Megatron.

“Where have you been?” barked the tyrant, flopping into the throne he installed in the centre of the bridge. Starscream took a deep intake and went to his console. He typed a few codes into the nearby terminal, bringing a map up on the main screen.

“You asked me to look for new energon deposit sites, remember? So I did. I’ve analyzed three potential sites. One of them isn’t likely to be viable, but the other two have potential. My analysis has concluded that...”

“Yes, yes.” Megatron waved his servo dismissively, “Send Soundwave your findings and he will organize parties to investigate.”

Starscream grinned to himself. He knew Megatron was sending him on busy work while he worked on his true plans, probably because of Starscream’s tendencies towards betrayal, but he was pleased he’d at least managed to fool Megatron into thinking he’d done what he’d asked. He completed the analysis solar cycles ago, but Megatron didn’t need to know that. He deemed it useful to have a piece of useful information in his back pocket when dealing with Megatron, especially when questioned about his excursions. Megatron sat up and stomped over to Starscream, glowering over him. “Yes, my liege?” he asked, reflexively cowering.

Megatron leered at Starscream’s subtle submission. “Your performance of your duties has been exemplary these past few cycles. I dare say you’ve gone above and beyond.”

Starscream chuckled nervously. “Only doing my part for the Decepticon cause, master. After being out of the fold for so long, it’s the least I can do to prove my loyalty.” Starscream repeated, _please, not tonight, I don’t want to do this_ , over and over in his processor. If he were a praying mech, he’d beg Xal or Primus to spare him, but he’d long since learned that no one was listening.

Megatron hummed low in his throat. “This is not enough. Perhaps you can prove your loyalty in other ways.”

Starscream started shaking. He hadn’t fully recovered from last time. Now that he knew how much better this could be, even the thought of enduring Megatron’s “love” made him queasy. “Lord Megatron...”

“You’d dare deny me?” Megatron’s voice deepened and increased in volume. One of the Vehicons met Starscream’s optics and quickly looked away.

Starscream vigorously shook his helm. “No, my liege, I am simply tired from my excursion. It would be,” Starscream choked back bile, “my honour to join you in your berth.”

“If you aren’t up to it, I will expect you there tomorrow, then.” Megatron raised a brow-ridge. “You are...not enjoyable when you’re tired.”

 _That’s never stopped you before_ , Starscream thought. He said, “Thank you, master, for your generosity.”

“You will pay me back tenfold,” Megatron caressed one of Starscream’s wings as he walked past, “tomorrow.”

Starscream managed a flirtatious smirk before nausea hit him. He quietly excused himself from the bridge and went back to his quarters. No one questioned or followed him. They are used to the air commander and supreme leader leaving shortly after each other. Once he got into his room, Starscream collapsed alone on his berth, fighting the urge to cry. He missed Optimus already. At least the happy memories of their time together won’t be corrupted by Megatron right away. Like they often were. Like most of his memories were.

But he couldn’t leave. Especially not now, when he had a bad feeling that Megatron was planning something evil. Deep in his spark, he knew that was just an excuse. He couldn’t EVER leave. When he left on his own Megatron didn’t search for him, nor seek to win him back. But if Starscream left to be with Optimus, even if he didn’t join the Autobots, Megatron would destroy the planet itself with the fury of Unicron to get him back. Megatron could say they were done, but in the back of his processor, Starscream knew he would always return.

He deserved this treatment after all the suffering he inflicted on others. At least, he thought he did, before beginning his relationship with Optimus. Optimus made him feel like someone special and important, someone worth putting themselves at risk for. When they made love, it wasn’t painful and brutal as Megatron. Optimus cared more for Starscream’s pleasure than his own. Starscream felt selfish next to Optimus, but his lover didn’t seem to mind. As best as he tried to reciprocate, Starscream didn’t feel like he treated Optimus as good as he was treated. Starscream often wondered if he was too broken to love Optimus properly, too willing to be the worse person and too scared of his own emotions to really care for his partner.

It didn’t mean he didn’t love Optimus. He just loved him enough not to make him the target of Megatron’s ire.

Starscream rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He allowed his memories to drift to his time with Optimus, replaying what were quickly becoming the happiest moments of his life. While that was sad, he was grateful for it. It was enough to keep going, to cope with the abuse he suffered at the servos of his “leader”. Even if Megatron eventually found out and caught them, Starscream was willing to risk being prematurely sent to the well of allsparks to be with someone far kinder than he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to the end of the chapter. ❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	3. Chapter Two: Every Sigh and Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream reveals one of Megatron's plans to Optimus while they are trapped together in a cave. He faces dire consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Heavily implied abuse and non-con (because of Megatron)
> 
> Chapter Title from "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace (https://youtu.be/d8ekz_CSBVg)

CHAPTER TWO:

Every Sigh and Scream

Starscream had never believed that Primus worked in mysterious ways. For one, the patron deity of Vos was Xal and, despite his lack of belief in a higher power, he was going to continue to refer to Xal over Primus out of sheer spite. Secondly, there was no such thing as destiny. It was unscientific, and it was illogical. Prophecies only came true because the people who believed in them made it so, like his supposed leader taking the name of “Megatron” from the Covenant of Primus and bringing doom on all their helms through his own actions. However, if he were a praying mech, he might believe that being trapped in an Antarctic cave with Optimus Prime was fate.

The Autobot leader had finally stopped trying to dig them out through stubbornness and servo alone, coming to sit beside Starscream and pout. Or at least it sounded like he was pouting under his face mask. “It looks like we will just have to be patient.”

“Patience was never my strong suit.” Starscream picked at a piece of ice on the ground. He tried to ignore the energon he knew was leaking somewhere in his midsection, though it was burning all the sensors around it. He needed to get back to the Nemesis. He needed to just tell Optimus what he’d come to tell him and leave. Great Xal, he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. However, over-hearing Megatron while he lay supposedly unconscious in the infirmary spurred him into action. He couldn’t let Megatron destroy this planet, and it’s people like he’d destroyed Cybertron.

Like he’d destroyed him.

Starscream suspected that his next argument with Megatron would be his last. The tyrant had less and less patience for his “mistakes”. For anyones. They’d already lost five vehicons this cyberweek from Megatron getting mad and chucking one out of the hangar to the unforgiving ground below. He couldn’t even remember how he’d upset his leader this time, just that it hurt like the pit the entire time. Megatron didn’t even have his usual expression of relief after he was finished. He looked angrier than when he started. Starscream supposed his new plans and new ideas were born out of the same place of violence.

Another searing pain shot through his wires, from his helm to his pedes. Starscream winced. Knock Out had been wrong. The leak was much deeper than the medic had originally assessed. He wasn’t sure how much time he had, but it might not be enough. He wouldn’t be able to sabotage Megatron’s latest plan, and the thought of burning human bodies trapped in a series of collapsing tunnels reminded him too much about the fall of Vos to allow to come to pass. But he was going to die here, in this cave, buried just like they would be if he didn’t stop it. He had to keep his injury from Optimus for as long as possible. He didn’t need to give him more stress than he had to.

“You are going to have to adapt, dearest. I am having difficulty reaching my people, though they know we are down here somewhere. I know that rescue is coming.” He laid a large servo over Starscream’s nimble, shaking digits. “It might be nice to have some time to actually talk.”

“We ‘talk’ a few times a Quartex.”

Starscream could make out a faint discolouration in the metal on Optimus’s cheeks poking out from behind the mask. “Yes, but now we can _talk_.”

“Why would you want to do that?” He scoffed. He could barely stand the sound of his own voice most solar cycles.

“I thought that much would be obvious, from the ‘talks’ we have had before.” Optimus retracted his face mask, giving Starscream a full look at his handsome face-plate. “I enjoy hearing your thoughts. I enjoy hearing your voice. We are going to be down here for a while, and it might be a nice way to pass the time.”

Starscream sighed. He rested his helm on Optimus’s shoulder. Perhaps talking would distract him from the smell of burning oil playing in his memories. He had to get his pain under control. He had to figure out the best way to tell him. And he had to distract himself from the stabbing pain inside him long enough to focus on anything else. “I hate it when you’re right. Which, I hate to admit, happens often. So, Optimus the Prime. What do you want to talk about?”

The Prime thought for a moment. “I suppose...I never did ask you about where you acquired your vast scientific knowledge. I always assumed the University of Vos...”

Starscream grimaced. No, he wouldn’t escape it. He tried to remember his beautiful city before it was consumed by flames. “It was the Royal College of Vos, thank you, and that was where I attained some of my many degrees.” He smiled, remembering skittering from class to class, skinny arms laden with books and tablets and all manner of writing material, trying to find his way through the gigantic, sprawling halls. “I finished my education at the University of Kaon.”

“Interesting. I thought the city had a reputation for industrialism, not academics.” Optimus sounded genuinely interested. But then, he always was. The scribe in him was still strong, and Optimus eagerly absorbed any and all information given. And, as Starscream found, remembered it clearly, even cycles afterward.

“Yes, it’s true, but due to the city’s focus on industry, they had a marvellous department of engineering. Though my accommodations did constantly stink of oil and ash.” Starscream laughed.

Optimus followed suit, his laughter a deep, reassuring rumble. “Other than engineering...”

“I already know what you’re going to say, and I studied literature, bio-mechanical engineering, physics, chemistry, and political science. That last one started as an elective, but I fell in love with it.” It was that class that led him to one of Megatron’s rallies, trying to get more information for a paper. He wished he’d taken another classical literature course instead. He frowned.

Optimus noticed his shift in facial expression. “It must have been hard for you,” he said, trying to change the conversation, “to study and lead your squadron.”

A shiver went through Starscream’s body. At least half of their bodies were buried beneath the ruins of Vos. He’d buried them himself. It was their final wish, to be taken home to rest. “Yes, it was. But my duties to my city-state made my professors a little more lenient towards us. After all, we sought the energon required to keep our city functioning.”

“Your life is so fascinating,” Optimus leaned against the wall. “From the very beginning. I only started to be anyone of importance or attention after the matrix chose me. I was no one as Orion.”

“My dear leader took an interest in you, so I’m sure you were more interesting than you consider yourself.”

“And look at where that has brought us,” Optimus said sadly.

“Indeed.” _You’ve no idea of what he plans,_ _what he’s willing to do for power,_ Starscream thought, rubbing his side. The burning was getting worse. He could hear the faint sounds of drilling above but only faintly. It was time to drop the veneer. The pain was getting worse. He could feel some of his auxiliary systems shutting down. “But it brought me to you. How can I regret that? You’re the only bright spot in my otherwise wretched existence.”

“But, before the war...”

“I had no life. Not in any way that counted.” Starscream admitted. “I was a commander, yes, and a scientist, true, but those two things consumed my entire life. Outside of my squadron, and my inner trine, I was so lonely.” He looked at Optimus, watching his bright blue optics widen as he spoke. _Odd reaction_ , Starscream thought, but he continued to speak. “Surely you’ve felt it, how lonesome being a leader can be? That must be why you seek me out, rather than any of your loyal Autobots. You can’t jeopardize your position by changing how they view you.”

Optimus shook his helm. “Yes, being a leader is isolating. But I chose to have this...relationship with you because I care for you in a way I feel for you alone. Your allegiance matters not to me, just you.”

Starscream felt tears gather in his optics. “I don’t know why you feel so strongly.”

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked. “You never talk this freely, even post-coitus. You look like you are in pain. Is something the matter?”

_Ah,_ thought Starscream, _that explains the wide optics_. “I...” he wanted to lie, but the expression of pure worry on Optimus’s face-plate wouldn’t let him. Even his so-called physician didn’t look at him with such concern. He couldn’t lie. He deserved better, and this could be his last opportunity to treat his love how he deserved to be treated. “I’m badly damaged. I have an internal leakage. I thought I’d treated it, or I wouldn’t have come on this mission, but it was deeper than Knock Out thought it was. I can feel energon burning inside me. I’m kliks away from passing out. I don’t know if I’ll online after that.” He didn’t mention Megatron. It wasn’t important right now.

Optimus pulled Starscream to his chassis. “Oh, my spark. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

Starscream, despite himself, cuddled into the embrace. He knew he was being dramatic, it might not be that bad, but if the leak was deep, this was where he wanted to die. Not on the battlefield, not bloody and broken under Megatron, but in the arms of the one he loved most. “I didn’t want to burden you.” _Which is why I’m still not telling you the whole truth_.

“You are never a burden.” Optimus cooed, stroking Starscream’s helm. “Why did you come on this mission? Did you now know how bad it was?”

“I had to. I had to see you, I...” Starscream started to talk, but instead, he had to bite back a scream. The energon was eating through a wire in his spinal strut. He could feel it, feel it burning through the insulation into the metal itself. He curled in on himself, clutching his middle.

Optimus stroked his helm. “My dear one. I hate to see you in such pain. I will make sure we both make it out of this.” Before the seeker could stop him Optimus contacted his soldiers over his comm. “This is Optimus,” he started, “Can anyone hear me?”

“Boss-bot?” Starscream heard, recognizing the lone female Autobot. “Is everything alright? Did Starscream try something?”

“No, Arcee. In fact, it is Starscream that needs assistance. Ratchet?” He asked. Ah, a group comm. Starscream needed to implement that. Megatron said it was too expensive, and that there was no one on board competent enough to install it, but this was more useful than giving everyone separate instructions.

“I’m here,” the medic said. “What’s going on?”

“Starscream was injured during the fall into the cave. He has a deep leak and he’s unsure of his chances of survival.” Starscream saw how hard it was for Optimus to keep the pain from his voice. His jaw was tight, his optics half-closed, and his gaze straight ahead.

“How does he know it’s a deep leak?”

“Because I feel it burning!” Starscream hissed angrily, to no one in particular, lashing out at the situation. “I know exactly where it is because I can feel everything it touches. It’s in my spinal struts. I am in AGONY.”

The comm was silent. “I see.” Ratchet apparently heard Starscream’s angry ranting. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do until we get to you two. Hold on, we’re going to get something bigger.” The comm went dead.

“Why did you do that,” Starscream snarled, lifting his helm and rounding on Optimus with his denta bared.

Optimus was immune to his usual intimidation tactics. He glared back at him. “Because I want you to live, Star.”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t need my enemies to know that I’m weak.” Starscream crossed his arms and moved away from Optimus. His body protested each movement and he didn’t manage to get far, flopping onto his back a scant foot away from the Prime. Tears gathered in his optics. He was doomed now. It was a perfect opportunity to eliminate him, and if the Autobots were smart, they’d off-line him as soon as he emerged from the cave.

“Do you think...do you really think that my team would hurt you?”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m their enemy. It would be an easy chance to remove a threat.”

“The Autobots fight with honour. We do not kill our injured opponents. Perhaps you have forgotten what that’s supposed to look like.”

Hurt stabbed at Stascream’s spark. So this was how his love saw him. How fortunate, that he was to die finally knowing Optimus’s honest opinion. “The truth comes out,” Starscream spat. “I should have known.”

“What do you mean?” Optimus asked.

_How could he not...is he damaged?_ Starscream thought, folding in on himself. “That you see me as dishonourable, and weak.”

Optimus stood up. He looked up at the massive layer of ice and snow covering their hole they’d fallen in through. He walked until he loomed over Starscream, looking down at the seeker with a look he couldn’t place. The Prime bent down and scooped his lover into his arms, cradling him and nuzzling their helms together. Starscream protested weakly, kicking as much as he could with his injury before giving up and flopping into the hold. He nuzzled back, purring and clicking as he relaxed. “If I truly felt that way about you, we would not meet for ‘talks’.”

“Then why did you say that?”

“Forgive me, my spark. I was not insulting you, but rather the Decepticons.”

“...you do remember that I am a Decepticon, right?”

“The system of warfare Megatron operates rewards underhanded tactics, using civilians as collateral, and leading through fear. Do you, educated in political science as you are, really think these are sustainable strategies?”

“No,” Starscream said quietly, “I do not.” He thought again of the latest plan Megatron had concocted. Even if Optimus’s team saved him, they still needed to know Megatron’s evil scheme. He might not live to tell them another solar cycle. He wanted to at least protect the strange creatures his lover was so fond of. “Optimus, I need to tell you something.”

“Anything, my spark.” Optimus leaned forward to kiss Starscream’s forehelm fin.

The gesture was sweet, and as it was often how Optimus started or ended their ‘talks’. Starscream felt himself heating up, but he swallowed it down. This was more important. His last chance. “Megatron is going to attack a fully-staffed refinery. They are very close to hitting an energon deposit. He’s going to use the humans to mine it by threatening them, and then he plans to blow up the refinery and any trace he was ever there with them inside.”

Optimus stilled. “That is...that is disgusting. It is a horrific thing to do.” His fans started to whir, his entire body heating. The arms holding Starscream started to vibrate with barely contained rage.

“And yet, are you really surprised?” Starscream scoffed. “You know what he’s capable of. You know his utter disdain for the little scurrying creatures of this planet. I’m only telling you this because I might not make it, and I don’t want to die as an accomplice to evil.” _Please,_ he thought, _allow me to leave a legacy as someone_ _worthy_ _of your love._

“You will make it,” Optimus assured him, “you _will_ make it.” He stroked one of Starscream’s wings between two digits, sending pleasure up his wires and distracting him briefly from the agonizing pain. He didn’t deserve Optimus. He never had. Even this last act, despite the many human lives he would save, did not erase a lifetime of evil and cruelty. He lost consciousness, stroking Optimus’s face-plate, little bits of ice raining from the ceiling onto his slowly closing optics.

#

When Starscream online d again, he was lying on his back and he felt...cold. Absolutely frozen. He blinked and looked up, his red optics meeting concerned blue. He felt a gentle pressure on his servo. His optics flicked down and he saw that Optimus held his servo as the medic above him worked. Starscream groaned, starting to shift. The medic jumped back, and Optimus let go of his servo. “Where am I? What’s going on?” He looked around, trying to see if there were any Autobots or Decepticons around to witness his humiliation. They were alone. Ratchet must have sent them away so he could operate in peace.

“You were correct in your self-assessment,” Ratchet said. “You did have a deep leak, and it was starting to cause organ damage. I’ve managed to patch you up, but you need to take it easy for a few cycles. I know you probably won’t, but...”

“It’s not a matter of ‘won’t’, it’s a matter of Megatron will refuse to let me rest.” Starscream rubbed his helm, sitting up. “Thank you regardless. It would have been easy to let me die.”

Ratchet shrugged. “I’m a medic. ‘Do No Harm’ doesn’t have any caveats.”

Starscream stood shakily, nodding to Optimus and Ratchet. “I thank you, then. I should be off. I expect I’m to make a report. Until next time.” He looked directly at Optimus, winking before he transformed and flew off in the direction of the nemesis.

The fact that his people had scattered and left him wasn’t surprising. Decepticons were expected to be loyal to Megatron. No one else really mattered. He’d long lost count of how many missions he’d had to salvage with only his wits due to his disobedient soldiers. His trine would never have made those mistakes. It was no surprise that they’d lost the war, in retrospect, though there were no real winners in the realm of war. They’d all lost things that could never come back.

Starscream transformed back into robot mode as he approached the deck of the nemesis, wincing in pain as the patch Ratchet installed hit a seam and tugged without tearing. It was a small, small mercy. The bay doors opened and the vehicons stationed there stood at attention. Starscream nodded and continued forward, his pedesteps echoing through the hall. The ship was eerily quiet. Hopefully, he could make it to his berth without attracting any attention. He supposed that he should, at least, ping Knock Out and let him know he was back, and that he’d almost gotten him killed.

When the door to Starscream’s quarters opened, he could already hear heavy uptakes. He stilled, fearing the worst. The door slid open to reveal Megatron sitting on his berth, glaring at him. “Lord Megatron?” he asked, starting to back out of the room. He couldn’t do it. Not again. His body wouldn’t take it. Even Megatron’s ‘gentle’ usually ended with an injury or two. _The last argument_ , he thought, _just as I predicted. I don’t want it to end like this! I should have died in the cave!_

“You’ve been meeting with Prime.” Megatron stood up from the berth. “Don’t bother denying it. I suspected something when you left for groons upon groons and returned with reports each time. I tracked you. I am not surprised by this betrayal.” Megatron’s optics seemed to glow in the dark, glinting from narrow slits. “But it still makes me angry.”

“Megatron, please, let me explain...” _I must protect Optimus! If he finds out..._

“Save your snivelling, Starscream. I already know why you’ve done this.”

Starscream’s optics widened. Had he seen their love-making? He felt queasy. Had his feelings been too transparent? “I...”

“You’ve been giving him intel, haven’t you?” Megatron roared. Starscream tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, but he realized that his punishment was going to be equally brutal. He nodded, looking away in mock guilt. “I always knew you were a traitor, but I kept you around. Do you know why?” Starscream shook his helm, unable to speak. “Because you were a competent commander and a very good lay. That won’t save you this time, Starscream. You will pay for betraying me. And this time, the price will be your miserable life.”

All Starscream could see was a clawed servo reaching for his face-plate, and all he could feel was the closed door against his back. So t _his is how it ends, then_ , he thought as Megatron grabbed him by the helm and banged his helm into the unyielding metal of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know the patron deity of Vos, but I like the idea of it being different from the rest of Cybertron. One of my favourite Transformers fanfictions ever (from the Transformers Animated era) is "The Brat Prince of Vos" by itsu-sual (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5092359/1/The-Brat-Prince-of-Vos), so my idea of what Starscream's home city was like pre-war is heavily influenced by this excellent story. 
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 11/09/20: Among other things, changed the long titles. They were bothering me. I guess I'm not a good emo kid anymore. Forgive me, P!OTD and FoB.  
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	4. Chapter Three: My Place Among the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus finds Starscream, and the Autobots do all they can to save his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Discussions of rape, graphic injury, death, and the afterlife
> 
> Chapter title is taken from "Lithium" by Evanescence (https://youtu.be/PJGpsL_XYQI)

CHAPTER THREE:

My Place Among the Ashes

_Warnings flashing, bright red, impossibly loud. Chassis integrity failing, they blared, life support systems activated. The warmth of Energon seeping from his open mouth, open cuts, between his legs. CPU restarting, they blare, and he mercifully loses consciousness. All too soon he returns to the blaring, to the kicks to his side and helm, the sword stabbing through his thin frame over and over, the shouting almost as loud as the warnings…limbs no longer responding. His claws scrape the floor of the Nemesis. He tries to breathe, but with his chassis half-crushed, he only manages a small intake. He feels light-helmed. He feels his grip on reality slip. He feels nothing._

_He feels nothing._

_Still, he smiles._

_ At least I got to see you one last time, Starscream thinks, as he feels the whirring of his CPU slow and cease. Optimus Prime. My spark. My love. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could have been the mech you believed me to be. _

Optimus onlined from recharge with a nagging feeling of dread, and it had not gone away as he completed his routine. The integrity of the base was intact, none of his team was injured and all seemed to be enjoying a brief respite. Even the humans were doing well, without any incidents at school or work, not even a common cold. Yet he was still troubled. Perhaps it was his knowledge of the upcoming Decepticon attack, but he had yet to plan how his team would stop Megatron and protect the human workers. No, it was not that. His spark worried for Starscream, but this was nothing new. He’d been increasingly fearful for his seeker when not in his presence. Megatron on his own was bad enough, but the influence of dark energon was already making his former friend act more impulsively, and more ruthlessly. Optimus strolled through the base, unable to sit, lost in thought, the only sound the noises of merriment emanating from the makeshift TV room.

He paused in front of the monitor room. He could alleviate some of his worry with a few keystrokes. He typed in his access code and reviewed all the alerts. Nothing. It was a quiet solar cycle on planet Earth. He shook his helm. He needed to refocus.

He decided to stop by the med bay, hoping that talking to Ratchet would help ease his processor. Nothing happened in the base without Ratchet knowing. Except for his...excursions. It wouldn’t have surprised Optimus if Ratchet knew about those too.

 _Perhaps he should_ , a voice in his CPU told him. _Perhaps someone should know_. _Secrets can be turned against you._

 _No,_ he shook his helm. _No one can know._

_For your own shame?_

_For Starscream’s sake,_ Optimus told himself, though the nagging voice wasn’t completely wrong. He didn’t want any of his team to know that he had given in to his basest desires. He was a Prime. He had a legacy to live up to. Though their servos weren’t clean, the Primes were important to the past and future of their dying race. He had to be better than the common bot. He had to show them...

But he was just one mech. He had desires like any other Cybertronian. Why should his status as a Prime prevent him from finding joy, even if it was with Starscream? He didn’t want to think about it. It only added to his growing unease.

Ratchet was hovering over a fabrication table when he entered the med bay. The medic didn’t look up from his work, just waved to show Optimus he knew he was there. “Come in, why don’t you. Don’t bother to knock. That would be inconsiderate.”

Optimus smiled to himself. No matter how much status one gained, they were all the same to the Autobot’s resident misanthrope. “My apologies, old friend. I simply wanted to check-in.”

“Check-in? You must be bored out of your CPU. I guess you want to know how and what I’m doing, then.” Ratchet said. Optimus nodded. “I’m trying to get the wiring in Bee’s new voicebox right. I keep shorting it out by accident. Someone has to have done this before, Primus damn it!” Ratchet gently set his tools down. “Why is this so difficult?”

“The stakes, I would assume.” Optimus leaned against the table next to him. “The personal connection.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Ratchet sighed. “How long has it been since he lost it?”

“A few cycles.” Optimus looked to his pedes. “We will fix him.”

“I know.” Ratchet turned away from his work. “I just need to take my time. I’d rather do it right than do it fast.”

“Many things in life work better like that,” Optimus agreed.

Ratchet looked him over. “You seem different.”

“I do feel a little tense.” _Lying? To Ratchet? Starscream is rubbing off on me_.

“No, it’s not that.” Ratchet said. “You’ve seemed different these past few quartexes. Happier. Lighter, even.”

“Oh.” Optimus tried not to blush, or wince, or make any indication as to why he’d been so (apparently) chipper. “I...”

“Don’t make excuses, don’t try to dismiss it. That would be an insult to both of us.” Ratchet shook his helm. “Honestly. You don’t have to tell me what’s put the pep in your step. I’m just glad to see you happy.”

“Thank you,” Optimus said quietly.

“Try to lighten up, Prime. You’re probably just anxious because nothing is happening. It’s been attack after attack after attack for so long, you probably don’t remember what it’s like to just be. Go...do whatever’s been making you happy.” Optimus really, really had to control himself with that turn of phrase. “Or something. Everything’s fine. If something were happening, I’d know about it. I knew things even Prowl didn’t, remember?”

Optimus laughed. He remembered Ratchet dropping intel or information without preamble, shocking their head of intelligence Prowl into silence. He remembered Prowl getting very angry at Ratchet, especially when Ratchet’s reply to his questions as to where he’d learned it were a shrug. “Perhaps I should reassign you.”

“Don’t you dare. You know Prowl couldn't install a shunt to save his life.” Ratchet put a servo on Optimus’s shoulder. “Look, wander over to the monitor room if you’re so worried. You’ll see you little you have to worry about.”

“That is not a bad idea. Thank you, old friend.” Optimus pushed off from the table. He’d go, check the monitors, see that there were no alerts or sightings or anything, and then go watch TV with the kids. He was sure they’d like that.

He started walking out of the med bay. “Oh, and Optimus?” Ratchet called over his shoulder, turning back to his work.

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to tell me, but I will find out.”

Optimus let out a nervous chuckle. “Good luck with that,” he muttered before exiting the med bay.

The halls were still quiet as he walked through them on the way to his destination. When he finally arrived, he couldn’t quite go in. He paused in front of the monitor room, shifting from pede to pede. He could alleviate some of his worries, just as Ratchet said, but he still felt as though something bad was soon to happen. He swallowed his anxiety and walked in, going straight to a console. He typed in his access code and reviewed all the alerts. Nothing. It was a quiet solar-cycle on planet Earth. He shook his helm. He needed to refocus. A cube before TV, then. He stepped away from the console, walking to the door.

As Optimus crossed the threshold, an alert began to blare. He darted back into the room, reviewing the screens. A Cybertronian had entered Earth’s atmosphere and was rapidly descending. The signal was moving too quickly for it to be a controlled landing. It had to be a crash. Optimus increased the sensitivity of the scanners, trying to determine if it was a ship, an individual mech, or some sort of debris. Decepticon signal, it read, individual mech. He increased the sensitivity with shaking servos. His spark stopped. He knew that call-sign. He ‘borrowed’ Fowler’s access to American military satellites and confirmed his worst fear. Starscream. Starscream was falling, showing no signs of righting himself.

His team had heard the alert and joined him in the monitor room. Optimus stared at the screen, too shocked to move. “What’s the situation, boss?” Bulkhead asked, trying to see around Ratchet.

Optimus put his leader-face on, steeling his resolve. “The monitors detected a Cybertronian signal approaching Earth. After investigating, I have confirmed that...it is Starscream. I believe that he may be injured and in danger.”

“But he’s a ‘con,” Jack said, weaving in through the gathered Autobot’s legs. “Shouldn’t you focus on looking for energon and keeping relics out of Megatron’s servos?”

“You know, normally I’d agree, but...look, there’s only one mech who could have beat him that bad. If we can repair him, and earn his trust,” Bulkhead said, putting the pieces together, “he can be a valuable source of intel.”

“I don’t like it,” Arcee shook her helm, “but it’s your call, Optimus.”

“If you bridge there,” Ratchet pointed out, “you’ll need to drive back. I don’t like taking injured mechs through that thing. It’s too hard on their bodies.”

“That is...it is a risk we will have to take. Ratchet, I know you usually stay behind, but you will come with us. At the very least, your ambulance mode can help with transport.”

“You’ve got it, boss.”

Bumblebee chirped. “He’s asking if you’re really going to go.” Raf looked up at Optimus from his usual spot behind one of Bee’s ankle-joints.

“We are Autobots, protectors of all sentient beings. We will not ignore a fellow Cybertronian in distress, even if they are on the opposite side of this conflict. Bulkhead, I need you and the humans to remain at the base to bridge us back. The rest of you are coming with me.” The team nodded their agreement. “Transform and roll out!”

 _Please,_ Optimus thought as Bulkhead activated the space bridge. _Let him still have some function when we get there. Please, let him live._

#

As he raced through the desert, his processor firing at impossible speeds, filling his helm with scenarios of the worst kind, Optimus felt the worst fear he’d ever felt since becoming a Prime. Orion Pax spent a lot of time afraid. Afraid of what the corrupt leadership of Cybertron would lead to. Afraid his friend Megatron would die before he could spread his vision. Afraid of his friend spreading his horrific vision across the planet. As a Prime, bearer of the matrix, he could not afford to be afraid. He had to be a perfect example of courage, faultless to the core. After all, what was there to fear with the matrix, the ultimate example of the will of Primus himself?

But now, scanning desperately for Cybertronian signatures, hoping against hope that Starscream somehow still functioned, true terror gripped his spark. Matrix or no, title or no, this was conflict, and no one was safe.

His team sped behind him, even Bumblebee and Arcee struggling to keep pace with their usually slower leader. They rode in silence, the only sound the beep of their scanners. He saw Starscream land here, on the monitor, and he knew that there was no way Star could have walked away on his own. Megatron would not come back to retrieve a corpse. He was here. He had to be. Optimus ignored the sand and dust starting to clog his intakes. He’d find Starscream no matter what, even if he had to drive through the whole desert.

“I’m picking up signs of life!” Ratchet commed the group, sending coordinates. “I’ll warn you, they’re faint and fading fast. We need to hurry.”

Optimus didn’t need to be told twice. He sped towards the location given, transforming into robot mode to avoid running over his love in his haste. He glanced down as the sand beneath him changed. Trails of Energon were streaming through the desert ground, glowing bright blue in the brown earth. Optimus willed his tiring body to move faster. The energon had not yet cooled. Its source still functioned.

He skidded to a halt before a grey servo, flopped palm open in the sand. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see Starscream like this, but he had to. He forced himself to take in the grisly sight. As he did, Optimus fell to his knees, sending a cloud of sand out as he sunk to the ground. He couldn't restrain the cry of rage and agony that clawed its way out of his throat. He had seen a lot in his cycles of warfare. He had never seen anything like the sight before him.

If he had not picked up the signature of his love as he fell, he would not have recognized the body below him as Starscream. The seeker’s formally beautiful wings were shredded and torn, huge chunks missing as if hacked apart with a sword. His face-plate was half crushed, like one of the human’s soda cans, and the space where one of his optics once was shot sparks out through a sprinkling of red glass. His body was covered in dents, holes and cuts. Only a rattling intake, the drip of fresh energon from his many wounds, and the slight movement of Starscream’s chassis indicated that he was still alive.

Ratchet slid to a stop beside him, already transformed. “Oh my Primus,” he said, covering his mouth. “Is this...”

“I believe so.” Optimus’s voice shook.

“Primus,” Arcee whispered, transforming and looking down at Starscream with her own optics. “What in the pit happened?”

Bumblebee let out an angry chirp, one they all recognized. He made the sound before battle, when talking strategy, and occasionally screaming it as he woke from a nightmare none of his team could comprehend. Megatron.

“He won’t make it if we drive, will he?” Arcee asked. “He’s bleeding bad.”

“We’re going to have to risk the bridge. There’s no other way. Bulkhead,” Ratchet commed, “I need a bridge. Now. Yes, I know what I said, but I don’t think he’ll make it back if we drive.” He turned to Optimus. “It’ll take Bulkhead a few moments. I’ll do what I can here, but unless I operate immediately, he won’t make it.”

“You have to save him,” Optimus begged Ratchet, taking one of Starscream’s servos in his. “Please.”

“I can’t make that promise, old friend, as much as I want to.” Ratchet transformed into an ambulance and let Arcee and Bumblebee load Starscream in as the ground bridge opened before them.

_Optimus was above him, floating in the air, telling him to hold on. He was surrounded by a bright white glow, his voice echoing like it was all around him. Starscream tried to reach for Optimus, but he couldn’t. His limbs refused to listen to him. His CPU couldn't connect._

_He was dying. He knew it._

_The light dimmed. Optimus started to scream. Starscream tried to talk to him, tell him that he was fine, that it would be alright, but he couldn't. Soon, all was white._

_The white glow slowly faded away, revealing the Nevada sky. The sun, looming ahead, was sinking slowly in the sky. He was flying. He tried to slow down, or land, but his frame wasn’t responding. Was his T-Cog cracked again? Was he stuck in his alt mode? His sensors pinged him. Someone was approaching. Two someones, from the sound of two jet engines behind him. They were familiar signatures, ones he’d only felt in his memories. Two jets, nearly identical to him, came to hover behind him. Starscream recognized them instantly. He could feel the unique but familiar energy signature of a seeker of Vos. Thundercracker did a quick barrel roll, and Skywarp teleported a couple of inches in front of him, waiting for his two trine-mates to catch up. “Hey, Screamer.” TC’s voice was warm and clear over their private comm._

_“TC? ‘Warp? What are you doing here?”_

_Skywarp laughed. Starscream’s spark tightened. He’d missed that obnoxious, nasally sound. “Land, and I’ll tell you.”_

_Starscream followed Thundercracker and Skywarp to a cliff, watching as his trine-mates transformed and landed easily. Starscream was finally able to transform to robot mode, floating to the ground beside them. One he was on the ground, he reached out for his long-lost friends. He wanted to hug them, something he never did when they were alive, just to show them how much he’d missed them. Thundercracker stepped back, shaking his helm. Skywarp jumped back as if he’d been burned. Why can’t I just have this? Starscream thought angrily. Why can’t I hold those I love? Haven’t I suffered enough?!_

_“Don’t. If you touch us...you don’t go back.” Starscream started to hear the beeping of a monitor. TC sighed. “I want to hold you too, Screamer. I want us to be a trine again. But you can’t stay here. You have to go back.”_

_“Where is here?”_

_“You know where we are, Screamer.” ‘Warp crossed his arms. “And we don’t have long.”_

_Starscream was silent, taking in the information. He wasn’t in the afterlife. There was no such thing. His crashing CPU was just trying to make him feel better._

_“So he finally did it.” ‘Warp shook his helm._

_Starscream nodded sadly.“He did, yes.”_

_“Good thing Optimus was there to save you.” TC chuckled. “Great Xal, I never woulda seen that coming.”_

_“I did.” ‘Warp smirked. “He has a type. He always has.”_

_Starscream pouted dramatically. “I must hate myself. You hallucinations are just mean.”_

_“We’re not...” TC groaned dramatically, looking up at the sky. “Whatever, man. I think it’s cute, for whatever that’s worth. He seems like a good mech.”_

_“He is.” Starscream hid his grin by looking at the ground._

_“I’m happy for you. I mean, I’d be happy no matter what, really, as long as it wasn’t Megatron.” Skywarp’s gaze darkened, his optics narrowing as he glared at a Megatron that wasn’t there. “If Optimus wasn’t there, you’d have died.”_

_“I am aware, Skywarp. I was there.” Starscream didn’t like where this was going._

_“You can’t...you can’t let it lie, Star. Not this time.” TC said. “You won’t be where it ends. You have to kill him.”_

_“I already tried. It didn’t work.”_

_“I know you’ve tried, but this time it needs to stick. You have to kill him.” TC warned. The beeping got louder. “It’s your duty as our commander to stop him.”_

_“What about Optimus?” Starscream asked._

_“This is your battle, not his. You can’t defer the responsibility.” ‘Warp gave him a sad smile. “Don’t be like me. You have to be better than skipping training to sleep off a hangover.”_

_“You are one of the finest mechs I’ve ever known.” Tears ran down Starscream’s face-plate. Even if this was his CPU, he was happy to see his trine again. “You both are.”_

_“Then avenge me. Avenge us. Stop Megatron.”_

_“I will,” Starscream lied._

_“Don’t. Not now, Screamer.” TC growled. “You have to promise that you’ll take him down._

_“I don’t know if I can,” Starscream admitted._

_“You have to,” ‘Warp said. “Find a way.”_

_“I...I will.”_

_“You’d better, or what happened to me, and to ‘Warp, will happen to everyone.”_

_“What happened to you?” Starscream asked. “I found your body, but...”_

_The Nevada sky started to fade back to the bright white glow. The beeping got louder again, followed by agonizing screams. He wasn’t sure if those were his own, or if Optimus was somewhere nearby, watching him crash. “You know what happened, Star. Find my black box.”_

_“No,” Starscream begged. “Please don’t go!”_

_“We have to,” Warp pleaded. “Promise us, Starscream. Promise me you’ll stop him!”_

_“I promise I will.” Starscream felt himself being pulled like something was tugging on his wings. “Stay with me. Please.”_

_“You’re going back,” TC said, a smile on his face-plate. “Try to stay there this time.”_

_“Wait!” Starscream shouted as he was slammed back into his body. He felt pain, pain like nothing he’d ever felt, as soon as he could feel his limbs again. Optimus was still above him, begging for Primus to save him, urging Ratchet to stop the bleeding. The medic muttered something but Starscream couldn't hear it. All he was focused on was Optimus._

_Starscream’s spark started to hurt. “I’m losing him!” Ratchet shouted, running over with what looked like jumper cables. Starscream’s world faded to white again, his optics focused on Optimus until they powered down entirely. As if on cue, Starscream’s life started to flash before him. Xal had mercy on him if he existed, and Starscream was offlining while remembering the best moments of his life. Some were long ago, but quite a few were recent. Even with his optics powered down, he could still see the face-plate of his beloved, telling him to pull through, that he was loved, that he was someone worth saving._

_He had to believe that._

_It was the only thing he could cling to that didn’t hurt._

Optimus paced the halls outside the med bay. Ratchet had booted him out, insisting that he was getting in the way with his screaming and insistence on holding Starscream’s servo, ordering Bumblebee and Rafael to assist him in the operation. Optimus could hear saws and bolt cutters and stapling from the hallway. He’d already finished his mission report, debriefed with Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and they still weren’t finished the operation. The damage was extensive and would require a lot of time to even repair enough to get Star stable, but he worried all the same. He’d seen his lover crash three times, onlining and offlining, dying and being raised from the dead. He never wanted to see that again. His spark couldn’t take it. His CPU was barely handling it. Not being in the med bay was killing him.

The pacing, at least, distracted him from his anger. Megatron was a monster. He was beyond saving. He wanted to find the Nemesis and tear it apart with his bare servos. He wanted to pull Megatron’s spinal struts out and slit his throat. He tried to fight the darkness inside him. It wouldn’t help anyone right now, least of all Starscream, but he could not help his rage. If Starscream didn’t make it, he decided, neither would Megatron.

If Starscream lived, whether or not Megatron did too was up to him.

Bumblebee exited the med bay, wiping energon off his servos with a far-away look. He took a deep intake and gave Optimus a nod as he disappeared down the hall. Ratchet followed soon after, poking his helm out of the med bay. He gave Optimus an evaluating look. “He’ll live.”

“Oh thank Primus.” Optimus let out the breath he’d been holding. “I feared the worst.”

“He’ll live,” Ratchet reiterated, “but...I have more work to do. I don’t know what kind of life he can expect for the next little while. With his wings that damaged...I’m going to put him under psychiatric watch.” The medic seemed to close in on himself, rubbing his arms. “I’ve seen stable flyers off themselves with much less damage.”

“That seems best.” Optimus tried to remain as neutral as possible. Ratchet’s breathing turned shallow. “You seem troubled, old friend.”

Ratchet gave him a small grin. “What gave it away?” He breathed a deep sigh. “I’m a combat medic. I’m used to the most gruesome injuries you can imagine. I’ve seen things that would shock Unicron himself. When I opened Starscream up, trying to save his life, I saw...I’m not used to seeing _that._ ”

“Seeing what? I must confess that you’re confusing me, Ratchet.”

“His...everything is damaged. It looks like a bomb exploded inside him. And what’s worse...his valve is badly damaged. So are several of the organs around it. Those are old, old injuries. I see a few attempts to treat them, but it seems like some of them were re-opened before they got the chance to heal.” Ratchet started to shake. “I didn’t see it when I stopped the leak. There was too much energon, I could barely see where he was punctured...It’s sick. It’s...it’s awful. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen.”

Optimus bit his servo, but it did nothing to keep the tears from falling. He’d suspected it for a long time, since before he’d become intimate with the seeker. Everyone had. Some of the Wreckers even joked about it. The confirmation was still hard to take. The extent of Starscream’s injuries made him just as sick as they made Ratchet. “How old was the oldest?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“I couldn't date it. It was too scarred. It’s just scar tissue on scar tissue on scar tissue.” Ratchet looked up at Optimus. “You suspected it too, didn’t you?” Optimus nodded. Ratchet shook his helm. “Megatron is Unicron himself. He’s pure evil. No wonder Starscream’s such a mess.”

“I hope we can convince him to stay,” Optimus said resolutely, “so he can finally heal.”

Ratchet nodded. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with him once he on-lines again. I’ll keep him in here as long as I can, but this is a med bay, not a hotel. We can’t exactly put him in the cells, but I don’t want him to be able to wander too freely through the base either. Don’t look at me like that, Optimus,” he caught the angry look in Optimus’s optics. “Starscream’s badly damaged, I want him monitored at all times and close to the med bay in case something tears.”

“Fair enough.” Optimus conceded.

“We could stick him in your quarters. He’d probably be the most comfortable there.”

“Yes, I suppose...” Optimus stopped, finally realizing what Ratchet was saying. He glared at his medic, who stared back at him with a knowing smirk. While he was happy to finally see an expression of mirth on the medic’s face-plate, he did not like the circumstances. “I don’t appreciate the insinuation.”

“I’d say it’s more than an ‘insinuation’, given your reactions. I’ve seen a lot. Your reaction isn’t one warrior grieving the potential loss of an honourable opponent. You were like a conjux endura watching their beloved die.”

“To suggest I have that kind of relationship with the second-in-command of our enemies...”

“...isn’t the strangest coupling that’s happened over the course of this war.” Ratchet finished. “Decepticon, Autobot, it doesn’t matter. In the end. we’re all just Cybertronian. This whole thing started because we forgot that.”

“Wise words, old friend.” Optimus leaned against the wall.

“Do you love him?”

“I do,” Optimus answered without hesitation. “And I think he loves me.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” Ratchet groaned, “but you understand that this is going to change things around here. You can’t keep this from the team, and they’re going to have questions.”

“I recognize that,” Optimus ground his denta. “I have been too preoccupied with worrying about Starscream’s survival to figure out how I am going to tell the team I betrayed them.”

“Unless you gave him intel I don’t think they’ll see it that way.” Ratchet said, joining him on the wall. “But you need to tell them soon to maintain propriety.”

“Yes, I will. I just want a few more kliks to settle myself. I almost lost my love, Ratchet. I need to allow myself to process that. Can I see him?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He looks dead, even though he still functions.” Ratchet offered him a small smile. “Just trust in the fact that he’s still with us. You have more time with him. Most don’t get that chance.

“Thank you,” Optimus said, “truly.”

“Of course.” Ratchet patted Optimus on the shoulder. “Take the time you need. I’m going to go check on my patient.” He disappeared into the med bay, leaving Optimus in the hallway.

#

Optimus called his team into their ‘living room’, as the humans called it, the only space in the base that humans and Cybertronians alike could fit in with room to spare. Arcee was still quiet, Jack trying to comfort her as best he could. He knew she’d recognized the injuries Starscream had suffered. Femmes tended to face different horrors of war than their mech counterparts. Bulkhead and Miko were chatting, and Raf was perched on Bee’s shoulder. Ratchet had to change dressings and would not be present. He didn’t need to be, really. He already knew.

“Thank you all for answering my summons so quickly.” He started, looking at the curious face-plates of his gathered team. He knew their expressions were about to shift to utter disgust. “I want to discuss the situation with Starscream.”

Arcee stared at the floor with gritted denta.

“Bee says we can’t let him go back, and we should lock him in the cells if we have to, so he can’t leave.” Raf translated the series of chirps, clicks and beeps from his friend. Bumblebee’s optics looked more haunted than usual. “Why?” Raf looked up at Bee, concerned for his friend. “Bee?” Bumblebee did not respond, his optics remaining focused forward, no doubt remembering and imagining a history of horrors. “Why can’t he go back?”

“How bad is it?” asked Bulkhead. “He’s still alive, right?”

“He is.” Optimus kept the emotion out of his voice, just barely. “But only ‘just’. He was badly damaged.”

“Primus.” Bulkhead crossed his arms. “Just when you think there’s no new lows Megs will stoop to.”

“I appreciate all the questions, but I did not express myself as I needed to.” Optimus watched the expressions on his team’s face-plates grow ever more puzzled. “I need to talk about Starscream, but it is less of a discussion and more of a confession.” He took a deep breath and began. “I know that what I am about to say will affect how you view me. Please know that I have never and would never do anything that would place your safety in jeopardy. This is between me and the party involved, and no information was ever exchanged.”

The team was silent. “What are you trying to tell us?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“I...”

“OPTIMUS!” A scream echoed through the halls. “WHERE AM I? GET OFF ME, DON’T TOUCH ME! I WANT OPTIMUS. ANSWER ME, MEDIC. WHERE THE FRAG AM I, AND WHERE THE FRAG IS OPTIMUS?!”

Optimus had started moving before Ratchet commed him, his feet leading him to the med bay, the source of the screaming. His spark was full of joy that Starscream was awake and able to cause a scene, but it was quickly being replaced by anxiety. Starscream was, as the humans put it, freaking out. He hoped he wouldn’t injure his team. It would make the coming revelation even more jarring and shattering.

He reached the med bay, his team close behind him. Ratchet had backed his patient into a corner, Starscream brandishing a saw and swiping at the medic whenever he got too close. He could barely stand, some of his many cuts reopened, and he looked delirious, but it was the best Optimus had ever seen him look. He looked completely and utterly alive. Ratchet maintained a respectful distance, his servos empty and raised. “I don’t know where I am,” Starscream hissed, “I don’t know if this is the pits or the well of all-sparks, but I want to see Optimus.”

“Starscream,” Optimus cautiously entered the room, keeping his voice even. Ratchet had managed to bandage the crushed half of Starscream’s face-plate, but it made him look even more crazed. His lone optic was darting around the room, finally focusing on Optimus. “I am here,” he reassured him, “it is alright. Put the saw down, and...”

Starscream was on him before he could finish his sentence, his weapon clattering to the ground. The seeker nuzzled into his chassis, crying with relief, his thin arms struggling to wrap around Optimus’s broad body. “Oh, my spark. My love. I was so scared, in such pain, and I thought I’d never see you again. Then I could hear your voice, I saw your optics, and TC and ‘Warp were there, and I thought maybe I was off-lining for good, and the best moments of my life were flashing through my CPU...” He looked up at Optimus, his one remaining optic brimming with tears and warmth. “Even in what I thought were my last moments, all I could think of was you, my love.” Starscream pressed their lips together, kissing Optimus with as much passion as he could.

Optimus felt tears on his face-plate but all he felt in his spark was love. His precious one was here, still living, and he returned the kiss with equal fervour, embracing his seeker at last. It was only when Starscream pulled away that he remembered that his team had followed him in, and a quick glance over his shoulder saw them all looking at him with confusion and shock.

“Is this what you were going to tell us?” Squeaked Jack.

“What the frag is this?” Arcee narrowed her optics.

Bumblebee chirped beside her.

“Bee’s asking if...I’m not repeating that. I don’t know what half those words mean!”

Bulkhead was just silent, his jaw hanging open.

“I think they’re a really cute couple.” Miko smiled approvingly. “Look at how happy they are!”

“Why are all of you miserable fraggers in my med bay?! OUT!” Ratchet shouted, shooing all of them out the door except Starscream. Starscream tried to follow Optimus, but Ratchet dragged him back to the operating table. “You still need your bandages changed, commander. He’ll be right outside.” The door closed with a whine from Starscream, loudly protesting his current lack of Prime.

Optimus looked at his team once again, blushing furiously. “I am in a romantic relationship with Starscream,” he said finally, “Any questions?”

“Megatron’s going to kill us all once he realizes that, isn’t he?” Bulkhead asked miserably.

“I think he wanted to do that anyway,” Miko piped up, “so really, not much has changed. Right, OP?”

“Yes.” Optimus refused to fight the smile on his face-plate any longer. “Exactly right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for supporting this little fic. I've gotten so many good comments and I'm going to respond to all of them in time, but I'm so grateful that my work has managed to touch people. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I hope it was worth the wait. 
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20; added scene with Skyward and Thundercracker
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	5. Chapter Four: Tragedy and Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus and Starscream share a tender moment in the med bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> embarrassed on main asked me very nicely for a fluff chapter, and because the next two chapters are about to get really, really dark I decided that I'd write y'all a short little chapter with lots of kissing and cuddling and cute stuff. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Title from "Clarity" by Zedd ft. Foxes (https://youtu.be/IxxstCcJlsc)

CHAPTER FOUR:

Tragedy and Remedy

Everything from Starscream’s helm to his pede-tips hurt. Every sensor in his entire frame was screaming at him, a searing pain shooting through him as he slowly onlined his optics. That was how Starscream knew he was still alive.

He also knew that he wouldn't be able to stay online for very long. He was in agony, and his system was trying to save what little fuel he had left to keep him in stasis without off-lining for good. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He’d woken up in the Autobots infirmary, but maybe he’d dreamt that. He’d already hallucinated his trine, it wouldn't surprise him if he’d imagined that he was anywhere other than the floor of the Nemesis.

He looked to his side and instantly felt a bit better. Optimus was standing nearby, talking to the Autobot medic. What was his name, again? Hammer? Wrench? Ratchet? Yes, Ratchet. Definitely. Optimus was talking to Ratchet. Starscream spotted a well-worn chair nearby, with a half-finished cube of energon nearby. He was safe. Optimus was with him.

So he didn’t imagine this, then. He wondered...no. It was impossible. He knew that there was no such thing as an afterlife. It just wasn’t logical. He’d hallucinated his trine to comfort himself in his solar-cycle of need. That was it. That was all.

Yet...

They were right. Thundercracker and Skywarp’s warning rang true, especially in the light of the solar-cycle. He’d tried to stop Megatron before, and he’d failed. But, if he joined forces with Optimus...no, he had to stop Megatron. His actions had helped the fragger gain power, and he would set it right. He would accept help from Optimus, his wonderful Optimus, but he wouldn't rely on him. He would stand on his own, no matter what. He’d promised...

He felt a burning tear run down his face-plate. TC and ‘Warp were dead. They were still gone. All that was left of them was what lived in his CPU. He promised himself, and no one else.

But that was good enough.

_I am Starscream, commander of the seekers_ , Starscream thought as he started to fade out, _and now I must seek my own redemption._

_No matter what it takes, no matter if I’m off-lined permanently this time._

__

Optimus ran his thumb over the limply dangling claws clutched in his servo. Starscream’s chassis rose and fell with each laboured intake. He remembered those same claws caressing him, wrapped around his spike without pain, and stroking his cheek after the act was over, despite being capable of such violence. Optimus’s aft was starting to get a little sore after sitting in the makeshift chair Ratchet cobbled together for him. He was beginning to tire, but a little pain was worth it. He wasn’t recharging in his quarters, anyway. When he tried, all he could see when he powered down his optics was Starscream lying in the sand, leaking bright blue energon into the pale earth. It helped to wake up and see that Starscream was still alive, if only just.

Ratchet was recharging. He left Optimus with strict instructions. Watch the energon drip, make sure the bandages stayed dry, for the love of Primus don’t touch anything...Ratchet’s usual paranoid sass. After all the work he’d put into saving a Decepticon the medic deserved a long recharge. It also offered Optimus the first chance he’d had to be alone with Starscream.

The first time they’d been alone without immediately starting to interface.

Optimus looked over Starscream’s broken body. The alluring form of his lover lay hidden underneath bandages, staples and blankets. He’d feared that their relationship was based entirely on their sexual compatibility, but the way Starscream leapt into his arms and clung to him seemed to say otherwise. The way his spark felt when he watched Star intake, warmth in his entire body, seemed to say otherwise. They would not be able to interface for a long time while his body healed. Optimus found himself perfectly fine with that.

One thing he found himself appreciating the most was that Starscream’s insignia was completely gone. Ratchet said that one of the worst wounds seemed to be an attempt to pierce Starscream’s spark casing through his chassis, right where his insignia had been mounted. Ratchet had to open Starscream’s whole chassis to fix his failing spark, and Optimus suggested that he’d melted the damn thing and thrown it away. That was good. Hopefully, Starscream wouldn’t mind, because he was never going back to the Decepticons.

The seeker stirred, his motors chugging as his systems came back online. The claws slipped from Optimus’s servo as Starscream slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He winced in pain as he did. Optimus could hear the thin wires of Starscream’s stitches start to strain, and the look on Starscream’s face-plate spoke to the pain he was feeling in his body. His lover’s stubbornness never ceased to amaze him. Optimus stood and helped his love sit up, adjusting the berth so Starscream could rest his back against it. He did his best to avoid touching the heavily bandaged and padded wings. He gently picked up Starscream’s ankle-joints (he tried not to grimace at how weak and dented the metal there was) to give himself space to sit beside Starscream’s legs. He gently stroked the limbs before him. Starscream smiled at him, still a little dopey from the medicine Ratchet was pumping through his fuel lines. “Hello, Optimus. Are you really here, or am I dreaming again?”

Starscream’s voice was huskier than usual, and it sounded like it pained him to talk. Optimus knew that wouldn't stop him from talking, and he was happy to hear it. “It is good to hear your voice, my Star.” Optimus raised Starscream’s servo to his mouth and kissed it.

Starscream laughed. “Now I know I’m dreaming. No one’s ever said that before. I doubt that anyone has even _thought_ that before.”

“I will admit to it being an acquired taste.” Optimus winked at him.

Starscream huffed, before descending into coughing. Optimus was instantly alarmed and reached out for Starscream, but his seeker held up a claw in warning while his chassis resumed its regular respiration. “I’m fine, you oaf. I’ll show you an acquired taste.” He crooked one claw, beckoning Optimus closer. As soon as he was close enough Starscream leaned forward and slotted their mouths together, his motor humming pleasantly as their glossas met. “Oh yes,” Starscream purred, “delicious.”

“You are ridiculous.” Optimus grinned against his mouth.

“You adore me, you can’t pretend otherwise.”

“My problem is that I cannot.” Optimus pulled back, stroking his love’s cheek. “I am sure my team would rather I did.”

“Your team can...no, it’s probably wise that I don’t finish that sentence.”

“You are correct in that assumption.” Optimus could sense that this would be a running theme as Starscream got to know the Autobots. Hopefully, he wouldn’t irritate any of them enough to put him back in the med bay.

Starscream noticed his slight frown. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking away.

Optimus tenderly turned Starscream’s helm with a finger under his chin. “You must know that you cannot go back to the Nemesis. You and my team will have to learn to live with each other. You do not have to like them right away, but you must accept that my team is just as important to me as you are.”

“Of course. You forget...” Starscream's expression shifted to a thousand-yard stare, lost in a time long past. “...that I lead a team, once.”

“I remember. They were capable warriors, and very brave. I can remember so many retreats because of your fliers. Your trine especially."

Starscream smiled softly. “I dreamt of them. We flew together in the Nevada skies. TC thinks I’m a fool, but ‘Warp thought we were cute together." He looked down at his servos. "I know it wasn’t real, but...it was good to see them again.”

“What do you mean?” Optimus asked. “Do you not believe in the Well of All Sparks?”

“I know I almost went there, but...no. I don’t.” Starscream shook his helm. “They’re gone. I imagined them. But...even if they’re dead, they live in my memories, and as long as I live, they will."

Optimus didn’t want to start discussing spirituality, not right now. Instead, he smiled, but inside his spark burned with anger. When Megatron attempted to kill his Star, he’d almost killed his love’s trine again. He tried to will the feeling away. It wouldn’t help Starscream, and it didn’t help him. He was already very close to leaving the base to find the Nemesis and blow Megatron’s helm off. “I am glad you live.”

“On-lining to your handsome face-plate makes me glad of that as well.” Starscream patted the spot next to him on the berth. “Come. Sit closer to me. Why are you so far away?”

“I did not want to aggravate your injuries.” Optimus shuffled forward, careful not to disturb the lines delivering the medication keeping Starscream somewhat lucid.

“I’m sure you can keep your servos off me long enough to recover. I can’t imagine that I’m too alluring at the moment.”

“You are beautiful, from your optics to your spark.”

Starscream rested his helm on Optimus’s shoulder. “Hmm. I doubt that, but I won’t dissuade you. And the correct answer is ‘you’re the most beautiful mech to ever grace Cybertron, with grace and elegance from your helm to your pedes, powered by a most radiant spark.”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

Starscream let out a hearty chuckle. "I’m certainly not that anymore.” He looked down at his chassis. “It’s...it’s gone.”

“Ratchet removed it. He...”

Tears sprang to Starscream’s optics. “I don’t care why it’s gone. I’m just happy it is. I already feel more whole.” He wiped his optics and sighed. “I just hope I'll be able to fly again. Then I’ll be fully myself again.”

“You will,” Optimus reassured him, “I promise.”

“Ratchet should promise me that. He is the one who will be repairing them, after all.”

“Then I can promise that I will be by your side through everything.” Optimus kissed the top of Starscream’s helm.

Starscream laughed bitterly. “Even I’m too useless and broken to frag?”

“Do you really see our bond as purely sexual?”

“No. I...” The usually chatty seeker went uncharacteristically silent. His optic flickered from Optimus to the floor. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it after catching Optimus's optics. Optimus tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it seemed to make Starscream more flustered. Starscream took a deep intake. “I love you," he finally admitted. "As I was dying, all I could think was how grateful I was that I’d seen you one last time. When we’re apart, you are all I think about.” He looked up at Optimus, his lone optic filled with hope. “You are the reason my spark continues to pulse.”

“I love you too, my precious gift.” Optimus tilted Starscream’s chin up for another kiss. Starscream eagerly met his lips, though he was too weak to open his mouth enough to deepen it. Optimus pulled back and looked deep into Starscream’s optics. “We will never be apart again.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can hope that.” Optimus wiped a lone tear from Starscream’s optic. “I have survived this war on hope.”

“You don’t want to know what I’ve had to do to survive,” Starscream mumbled, looking at the floor. He looked back into Optimus’s optics. “You’ll have to hope for the both of us.”

“And I will,” Optimus promised, “I will.”

Starscream grinned at him, resting his helm on Optimus’s shoulder once more. After a few moments the seeker was recharging once more, his intake warm and gentle on Optimus’s plating.

Optimus moved Star’s helm back to the berth after a few moments, making sure the seeker was deep enough into recharge not to wake. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Starscream looked much more peaceful, his features relaxed into an easy half-grin. Optimus imagined that his face was much the same as he settled back into his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this short n' sweet chapter because things are about to get rough(er) for poor Screamer. Thank you for the suggestion, embarrassed on main. It got the creative juices pumping. 
> 
> Edit Notes: 09/11/20, added scene in Starscream's POV
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	6. Chapter Five: Strength in Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Optimus share time together, and Starscream meets some of the other residents of the Autobot home base, including their human companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Frank discussion of violence (domestic and otherwise) & rape, rape flashbacks, trauma to sex organs and war
> 
> Chapter Title taken (and heavily abbreviated from) "Keep Myself Alive" by Get Scared (https://youtu.be/5PegbGOF9ho)

CHAPTER FIVE:

Strength in Darkness

Starscream’s optic fluttered open. He took a deep inhale and slowly sat up, glancing around the Autobot’s med bay. His internal chronometer told him he’d last onlined two solar-cycles ago, and that it had been approximately a cyberweek since he’d crashed last, and yet another cyberweek before his first crash. He groaned softly. Perhaps it was (definitely) the medicine he was being given, but it felt like it had been merely a solar-cycle since he’d been lifted from the Nevada desert to the safety of the Autobot’s base. There was a steady drip of energon into his lines. The medic had been courteous enough to temporarily dim the fluorescent lighting overhead. The blanket Optimus tucked in around him was still draped across his legs. It felt good to wake up here despite the sheer absurdity of the situation.

A quick glance around told him that Ratchet was out. He had no doubt that the medic was monitoring his vitals remotely and would be back very soon to administer medication and change his itching bandages. Optimus was recharging in a chair in the corner, Starscream noted with amusement. He looked quite adorable with his optics powered down and his mouth hanging open. Starscream adjusted his berth with a lever Optimus had installed next to him, leaning back and resting. He would try to enjoy the quiet, knowing just how brief it could be in a bustling base.

Optimus grunted and stirred, his own blanket sliding off his lap onto the floor. The Prime slowly blinked himself awake, his brilliant blue optics glowing as he yawned and stretched. He spotted Starscream looking at him and smiled, picking up his chair and moving it beside Starscream’s berth. “Good morning, my spark.”

“Good morning.” Starscream reached for Optimus’s servo. “My love.”

“How are you feeling?”

Starscream shrugged. “I feel, and that’s more than good enough right now. I’m still sore, but whatever Ratchet’s pumping through me is taking the edge off.”

“I can tell,” Optimus chuckled. “You are more coherent than you have been in solar-cycles.”

“I was talking to you...” Starscream double-checked his internal chronometer. “Four solar-cycles ago?!”

“Yes. That was before Ratchet...I should let him tell you about the surgeries he performed.” Optimus patted Starscream’s servo. “I am simply glad you are more yourself.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” Starscream joked. Optimus didn’t laugh. Starscream sighed. He looked over his shoulder at the pieces of his wings that remained. “I appreciate what Ratchet’s done for me so far. I look forward to being fully restored.”

Optimus’s gaze was so intense that Starscream had to look away. “We have not...I was afraid to ask, before, because...” Optimus being lost for words never happened. Starscream was starting to get concerned. “What happened?” He asked bluntly, squeezing Starscream’s servo tightly, the metal starting to bend from the force.

“That should be obvious, shouldn’t it?” Starscream asked bitterly. “Megatron happened to me.”

“Yes, I am aware. However...He has never beaten you this badly.” Optimus’s voice shook. “I think he intended to kill you.”

How could Optimus be so blind?! Still, his lover’s sadness kept Starscream from snapping at him. He took a deep intake, steadying himself to relay the events without sobbing. “Megatron,” Starscream started, his voice breaking the second he said the name, the very syllables hurting him as he spoke. He stopped, took another intake, and started again. “He discovered that we’d been meeting. He assumed I was giving you intel, which was only partly true. Had I corrected him, you’d all probably be dead. He'd have taken you apart.”

“This,” Optimus gestured to Starscream’s broken body, “was because of me?”

“No,” Starscream growled, “it was because of...him and him alone. It was because he’s a fragger and a monster. If it wouldn’t have been for this, it would have been for something else.” He tried to tuck his knees into his chassis, but his body didn’t want him to. “It’s finally safe for us to be together, just as you always wanted. My former leader thinks I’m dead, and he’s finally done with me.”

“I never expected this to be how that came about." Optimus shook his helm. “I had these romantic visions of storming the Nemesis and rescuing you or of besting Megatron,” Starscream winced. Optimus looked embarrassed but continued. “And leading you away from the battle, servo in servo.”

“I would have liked that. That would have made me happy.”

“How does it feel?” Optimus asked. “That, at long last, _he_ has let you go?”

“I thought I’d feel happier,” Starscream admitted, “but I still hear his words in my processor. I still feel like I need to prove my worth to him. I can’t remember a time when I could just...be.” Optimus frowned. _Slag_ , Starscream thought, _I’ve upset him. I can’t make Optimus happy either_. “I don’t want to go back to him!” He waved his servos and frantically shook his helm. “That’s not how I feel. I was contemplating my emotions, that’s all.”

“You do not have to justify yourself. Not to me.” Optimus looked deep into Starscream’s remaining optic. “Tell me the truth. That is all I ask. Can you do that?”

Starscream nodded. It would be hard. He was so used to lying, covering his tracks, and manipulation that he did it without thinking. He wanted a life beyond that. He wanted a life built on truth and trust, not on fear and deceit. “Yes. I promise.”

“Do you want to be here?” Optimus asked, searching Starscream’s face, clutching his servo like it was a lifeline. “With me?”

Starscream didn’t have to lie. “Yes,” he said, “more than anything.”

Optimus Prime leaned forward and kissed him, slow and gentle. Starscream looped his arms around his neck and nuzzled in, letting his lover take the lead.

They heard someone clear their throat. Starscream looked up and saw Ratchet staring down at him with his trademark grumpy expression. “If you two wouldn’t mind, I need to check on our patient.”

“Oh, right.” Optimus pulled away. Starscream whined at the loss of contact. “My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ratchet checked the nearby monitor. “I’ve seen worse. One time, in med school, Pharma...you know what, forget it. Just trust me.” He raised a brow-ridge at Optimus. “You’re not going to leave, I assume.” Optimus nodded. “Perfect.” He turned to Starscream. “Alright, then. We’ve got all your vital systems repaired, and a couple of joints for good measure. I assumed you wouldn’t remember me telling you that, since you were on pain medicine. Pain levels?”

_He has a worse bedside manner than Knock-Out. Or Breakdown. And that’s saying something_. “Fine. I’m sore and aching but I’m not in agony.”

“Appetite?”

“Nonexistent. The energon drip is satisfying enough.”

“Mood?”

“At the moment, excellent.” Starscream winked at Optimus. Optimus patted his servo.

“As disgustingly sweet as that is...that’s what I want to hear.” Ratchet walked over to the energon drip with a needle, using the device to add more pain reliever to his cocktail of medicine. “Now that you’re coherent, I have some questions for you.”

Starscream groaned. “I was afraid of that.”

“Optimus...” Ratchet started.

“I am still not leaving,” Optimus replied, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument. “Whatever you want to say to Star, you can say before me.”

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Stubborn Primes. Gonna be the death of me.” He turned to Starscream. “How in the pit did this happen?”

“Which part?” Starscream narrowed his optic. “My wings, hacked to pieces with a sword and then bent? The dents where my former leader kicked me, or the cuts where he slashed me with his sword? Or maybe you’d like to know about how he burnt half my face with his arm cannon before stomping it in. Or there’s the hole in my back where he impaled me with his sword. There’s just so many injuries, I’m unsure what you’re referring to.”

Ratchet wrote on a datapad, likely adding the information to his file. “Megatron tried to kill you.”

“No, he did this for fun. It’s our bi-vornly routine.” Starscream crossed his arms. He was tired of the questions already. It didn’t matter how he was broken and bruised. He wanted to be fixed. This...medic...he could try, to trust him, but it was hard when he kept asking so many obvious questions. Starscream glared at him. “He tried to kill me. He thought I was giving Optimus intel.”

“That’s consistent with your injuries, and what we know about Megatron.” Ratchet gave Starscream an assessing glance. “How do you feel about it?”

“How am I supposed to feel but angry?” Starscream snapped.

“You tell me.” Ratchet crossed his arms. “I’m not the one in your position. You decide how you feel about it. So, I ask you again: how do you feel?”

“Angry. Sad. Relief.” Starscream gazed lovingly at Optimus. “Angry that it happened, sad that I stayed so long, and relieved that I’m away from him, and with my Optimus.”

“About that. About Optimus, I mean. And, uh, relationships.” Ratchet cleared his throat. “I have some questions about your, erm, sexual functioning.”

“You could ask Optimus yourself. He seems to think I’m functioning optimally.”

Optimus pinched his arm. “That is inappropriate, Star.”

Starscream relented. “I’m sorry, my spark. I’ll behave.”

Ratchet snickered to himself. “Optimus managed to find the one mech more stubborn and pig-headed than himself. Of course, he did.” He looked at Starscream with a mixture of sadness and pity. “There’s no easy way to say this. When I operated on you, I noticed a great deal of scarring and injuries to your sexual organs. Do you want me to attempt to repair them when we start substantive repairs? I ask because I need to start manufacturing those parts right away. They take the longest to fabricate.”

Starscream’s lines ran cold. He’d been lying on the table, clinging to life, and this...this sham, this butcher, was looking at his most intimate parts. He’d been a fool to think this idiot could help him. He reflexively shut his legs, hiding his interface panel. “You’re sick, you know that? Sick in the processer. What business is it of yours?” Starscream tried to stand, but he only managed to swing his legs to the side of the slab. Optimus tried to lay him back onto the bed, but Starscream slapped his servos away. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need to explain himself, he didn’t need any of this ridiculous fragging slag...

“I’m sorry.” Ratchet’s voice cut through Starscream’s panic and pain addled CPU.

Starscream scoffed. “What are you sorry for? For violating my privacy?”

“I know what happened to you. Those injuries only come from one place.” Ratchet had the decency to look regretful.

“What of it? The rumours were true, is that what you wanted to hear? That the ever-so-cocky second-in-command was getting put in place by his leader’s spike?” Optimus winced. Starscream felt a little bad, but he couldn't stop. “I bet the Autobots would love to know they were right.”

“That was not the rumour,” Optimus said quietly. Starscream’s helm turned towards him so fast it hurt his neck column. “The rumour was that Megatron beat you for no reason, and forced you to...please him. Some soldiers were crasser than others, but most of us thought it was an example of Megatron’s cruelty.”

Starscream deflated. He stilled, pausing with his legs hanging over the side of the berth. “Oh.”

Ratchet approached him slowly. “I’m sorry that this happened. I’m sorry that it happened for so long. You didn’t deserve it.”

Starscream stilled. “What if I did?”

“Star...” Optimus whispered.

“No one does.” Ratchet looked into his optics. “Not even you. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted to help you remove the scars he’s left inside you. I’ve seen too many...too many who have to suffer like you. In the Dead End.” Ratchet’s optics seemed to be staring past Starscream as if looking down one of the alleys making up one of Cybertron’s worst places. “I couldn’t help them. I can help you.”

“Even if you repaired my valve,” Starscream said, “you couldn't remove all those wounds. There would still be pain, no matter what.”

“Think about it, then.” Ratchet stood up to fetch new bandages. “You don’t have to answer me right now.”

“Thank you.” Starscream surprised himself. “I will.”

Ratchet knelt beside the berth, slowly removing the bandages with the utmost care. “Less energon soaking through. The stitches are holding.”

“Thank Xal for that.”

Ratchet lifted one of his bandages with a stylus. “You’re progressing well. You’re getting better with every solar-cycle, and I don’t think you’ll have to be in here for much longer. Even though you’re coherent, I’m not releasing you until you’re medically stable.”

“Seekers are notoriously delicate. Xal, I’m never going to leave.”

“It might be touch and go for a few more solar-cycles, and we’re looking at a three quartex time table until you’re restored to the same functioning, but you’re surprisingly hearty, for a seeker. You survived eons of abuse. You’ll survive this.”

Starscream nodded, lost for words entirely. He looked to Optimus. The Autobot leader was staring at him with such reverence that it made Starscream’s spark hurt. “You can leave if you want. I’m not exactly exciting company.”

“As long as you are in this infirmary,” Optimus pronounced, “I will be by your side.”

“I was afraid of that,” Starscream joked. “There goes my peaceful afternoon.”

“If you’re planning on doing anything that messes up my stitches, Prime, then you’re going to be on a slab right next to your partner in crime.” Ratchet waved a scalpel at Optimus and Starscream. “Don’t even think about it, seeker. I’ll give you a googly eye to replace your optic. Don’t test me.”

Starscream cocked his helm. “What’s a googly eye?”

“There is so much about the people of this planet that you don’t know.” He kissed Starscream’s servo, “and I will enjoy teaching it to you.”

Optimus tucked the blanket in around Starscream as the seeker drifted off to sleep. He’d secured a television and set it up in the med bay. In his opinion, there was no better way to learn about a people than by the stories they told about themselves. Starscream had been inquisitive and invested, but the medicine in his lines seemed to wear him down little by little until he succumbed to sleep. Optimus kissed the seeker’s forehelm and stood, stretching his struts and joints, sore from being locked into one position for so long. Ratchet lifted his helm from his fabrication table, watching the Prime wander around the med bay looking for energon. “The second cupboard on the left,” the medic said, “it’s not the best but it’ll do.”

Optimus picked up two cubes, one for himself and one for Ratchet. The cupboard was getting empty, he noticed. He shuddered to think about what would happen if it ran out. They would have to find a new source, and soon. He approached the table, mindful of the sparks sizzling from the welding torch his friend held. Ratchet set the torch down and picked up his cube, downing it in one gulp. “Are you enjoying sitting around watching television?” Ratchet asked. “Seems like Starscream is.”

“It is a valuable learning resource.” Optimus sipped at his cube, intending to savour it. “The more invested Star is in the humans he sees on the screen, the easier it will be for him to join us and accept the righteousness of our cause.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Ratchet looked down at the parts he’d been working on. Optimus’s optics followed. He saw some new gears and the beginnings of what looked like a mask. A half mask, like a TV character. He picked it up, turning it over in his servos. Starscream’s face, he realized, setting it down. Ratchet snagged the mask before it hit the table, picked up a chisel, and went back to work on it. “Not that I don’t think he’s a capable warrior. I know he is. But we both know capable doesn’t mean slag right now. Sending Starscream out on the battlefield would be a mistake, and I think you know that.”

“He was a scientist, once. We can use his sharp processor.” Optimus realized the wrongness of his choice of words as soon as they’d left his lips. He stopped, looking over at his lover, stirring in his recharge. He looked so peaceful and innocent, so far away from the spark-eating commander the team knew him as, and so far from the academic he’d been before that. “I should not have worded it like that.”

“What’s the big deal? You’re thinking like a commander. That’s what you are, after all.” Ratchet shrugged.

“I do not want to be his commander. I want to be his.”

“That’s all well and good, but you’re still _a_ commander. That’s going to be your frame of reference for the foreseeable future.” Ratchet sighed. “If he joins us, you will be _his_ commander. There’s no getting around that.”

“Do not remind me.” Optimus sighed. “I will have to give this more thought.”

A clanging at the door interrupted the two friends. Bumblebee and Raf peeked in, then darted out of sight when they realized they were spotted. “Stop acting like sparklings and get in here!” Ratchet barked. “All that sneaking around is going to stop my spark.”

The two sheepishly entered the med bay. Bumblebee beeped. “Sorry,” Raf said, both translating and expressing himself.

“It is alright, my friends.” Optimus raised a servo to signal to Ratchet that one of his usual tirades wasn’t warranted. The medic huffed and went back to his work. “Do you have something you wish to speak to us about?”

“We wanted to ask about sparring, but we didn’t want to talk to Starscream so we were seeing if he was asleep.”

Optimus’s anger flared, but he kept his tone even. “What specifically do you want to know about sparring?”

“Bee says that he wants to go out into the desert to practise his shooting without breaking things but he didn’t want to do it without your approval.” Raf translated a string of beeps and clicks.

“Yes, that is acceptable. But you must stay out of sight of the main highway, and only close-quarters combat. We risk being spotted if someone sees a flash from one of our weapons.”

Bee chirped happily. Raf didn't need to translate. It was clear that Bumblebee was happy to have permission to get out of the base for a little bit. Bumblebee started exiting the med bay, but Raf stopped him with a hand on his ankle-joint. Bee looked down, confused, but followed his friend back in.

“I have a question,” the diminutive human asked, fixing his glasses. Ratchet set his tools down and walked over. _He_ _i_ _s developing a real soft spot for this_ _human child,_ Optimus thought, smiling as the medic knelt to be closer to Raf’s height.

“Ask away,” Ratchet said, “and we’ll do our best to answer.”

Raf took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot since Starscream got here. About Megatron. I know he’s evil, and he’s the leader of an army, and he wants to rule everything and conquer the universe and stuff.” Raf kicked at an errant rock on the floor. “But then I started thinking about how he ripped out Bee’s vocoder. He didn’t have to do that. He did it because he wanted to. And then Starscream...Star’s kind of a jerk, but Megatron could have just executed him for treason. He didn’t have to torture him and cut him up and stuff. I don’t get it.” Raf looked up. “Why would he do that?”

Optimus’s spark ached. Little Raf was so observant, it only made sense that he questioned what he was seeing. Optimus wondered if the older kids were thinking about the same thing, but they might have their own insights due to their experience. Optimus looked at Ratchet. The medic nodded, understanding without words what his Prime was thinking. Optimus knelt and held out his servo. Raf walked onto it, sitting down with his legs crossed. Bumblebee hung back in the corner and watched the exchange. “It is a hard question to answer, but I am glad you asked us. The short answer is that Megatron does those things because he feels hurt inside.”

“He doesn’t seem to be that hurt. He seems mean and angry.”

Optimus nodded. “He is mean and angry. But he was not always that way. I believe that everyone is born with the capacity to be good, and Megatron is no exception. He was born into hardship and experienced powerlessness from the time he emerged from the well of allsparks. He grew to want power, and because he was born with none, he could never have enough.”

“Couldn’t he get that from leading the Decepticons?” Raf asked.

“Yes. That is a good observation, but it is more complicated than that. Leading the Decepticons is a different kind of power. It is indirect. He is removed from it, so to speak, and does not receive instant gratification for his actions. But being able to swiftly and permanently change the life of one person is a direct kind of power. He can admire his handiwork, and remind himself daily of his newly acquired might.” Optimus felt his optics narrow as he thought of his enemy. The way he smirked as he held Bumblebee’s bleeding body in one clawed servo made all the energon in Optimus’s lines boil. He thought that Megatron must have looked like that as he stabbed Starscream over and over, with that same smugness curling his cruel mouth. “It is evil. It is absolutely reprehensible.”

“Yeah,” Raf said, “It is.” He went quiet, tucking his knees into his chassis. Bumblebee beeped something, trying to comfort his best friend. “I guess so, Bee. At least, I hope so.”

“What did he say?” Ratchet asked.

“He said that, even though Megatron did that to him, he still fights and has a good life. He’s angry, but it doesn’t control his life. He says that maybe Starscream will be like that, with time.” Raf adjusted his glasses. “I hope he is too.”

“Don’t worry,” Ratchet said, getting Raf to step off Optimus’s servo into his. “I’ll make sure of it. So will Optimus.”

“Is that why you did not want to talk to Starscream?” Optimus looked to Bumblebee. “Because it would have brought back those memories?” Bee nodded. “Did it bring back memories to help Ratchet operate?” Another nod. “I understand, my friend. None of us remain unscarred by this conflict, but you have a daily reminder of what was done to you. I do not fault you for not wanting to deal with it more than you must.”

“Hel—hello?” Bumblebee tried to verbalize, finding himself frustrated when the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes,” Ratchet replied, “we’ll tell him you said hello when he wakes up.” Bumblebee smiled a little. Ratchet lowered Raf to the floor, allowing him to join his friend. “Now get going. I have parts to fabricate and medicine to administer, and you have shooting accuracy to practice.”

Bumblebee and Raf left, leaving Optimus and Ratchet alone with their recharging patient. “That was an interesting speech you gave Raf, especially considering the past actions of your little lover there.” Ratchet pointed a thumb at Starscream, who was starting to stir again. “Execution, kidnapping, torture, attempted murder, questionable experiments...those are direct too.”

“What are you trying to say, Ratchet?” Optimus’s fist unconsciously clenched.

“I’m not saying that I don’t agree with you. I just want to know that you’re holding everyone to the same standards. You’re our leader. We need you to be objective.”

“War makes monsters of many of us, Ratchet. Can we say our servos are truly clean?”

“No, but I can safely say that I’ve never tortured anyone.” Ratchet crossed his arms. “I want to help Starscream, and I took an oath to do so, no matter what. I feel bad for him, but we can’t justify his actions. You’ll have to face that, and hold him accountable.”

Optimus looked down at Starscream, who was slowly waking, rubbing his optics adorably and yawning. “I know, old friend. I know.”

“But,” Ratchet put a servo on Optimus’s shoulder, “we don’t have to worry about that right now. We’ll just focus on getting him better, and then we’ll worry about the rest.”

Optimus nodded. “What will we do if he refuses to admit to any wrong-doing?”

Ratchet looked him in the optics. “Only you can decide that.”

“So this is a googly eye,” Starscream gingerly held the small piece of plastic between his claws. “It’s so...tacky.”

“Give it back!” Miko demanded. The seeker handed it over, trying to spot the tiny creature the human child was making. “I guess it is kind of tacky, but that’s part of the charm!” She gently squeezed some glue out onto the back of the eye, spilling some over the plastic onto her fingers. Starscream grimaced. The googly eye was tacky and strange. Human adhesive looked revolting.

“Do you want one of mine?” Raf held one out. “I accidentally grabbed one too many.”

“Sure.” Starscream shrugged. Raf set the little eye in his servos and went back to work, attempting to thread a glinting needle. Starscream’s legs were starting to ache but he wasn’t so sure how to move without disturbing the children who’d made his bed their designated crafting zone. Jack, the oldest of the three kids, was flicking through the channels, having deemed the documentary on serial killers Starscream was watching ‘not child-friendly’ and ‘kind of freaky’. His craft supplies lay forgotten, the idea of making a ‘sock puppet’ unappealing. Starscream squeezed the little eye too hard, popping the air inside the plastic bubble. He set it down. “Why exactly are you making these things?”

“Raf has to make one for his art class. I thought it sounded super sweet so I’m joining in. Jack thinks he’s too cool to make a cute little puppet, but he’ll come around.”

“And why are you in here, and not in the...life room?”

“Living room. And we’re in here because Ratchet says Optimus is trying to teach you about humans. Is there a better way to learn than to hang with real-life humans? No way.” Miko smiled up at him, and then looked to Optimus, who glanced up from his datapad. “Right, OP?”

“Exactly right, Miko.” Optimus agreed, turning back to his reading. The Autobot leader still insisted on staying by Starscream’s side, and he hadn’t left the infirmary but to use the wash-racks. As the kids used Starscream’s berth as a craft table, Optimus was reading a briefing on his data-pad. Starscream caught his optics and beamed at him, earning a returned grin from his lover.

“I admit, it is nice to be able to ask questions about some of these ‘shows’. If Jack would ever pick a channel.”

“True crime isn’t appropriate for Raf, and reality TV is the worst possible representation of humans. I’m trying to find something good.”

“Are you sure you’re not putting off making your craft?” Starscream teased, panic seizing him as soon as the words left his mouth. What was he doing? It was like he couldn't control his need to be ‘on top’ or to make snide comments. He couldn't look at Optimus. He was going to be so upset.

“No!” Jack protested, his voice cracking.

“I knew it!” Miko out her sock down and jabbed her friend in the side. “Come on, Jack! It’ll be fun! Just put on cartoons and get your craft on!”

“Ugh, fine.” Jack switched the channel to cartoons, apparently. Starscream leaned forward. They weren’t real humans or realistic animals. He remembered Optimus explaining animation. Humans drew a bunch of sequential pictures or something and then they moved them in front of a camera really fast to give the illusion of movement. It allowed them to tell stories that otherwise wouldn’t be possible. Whatever was on the TV was something he’d never seen before.

“Huh. I never figured that a giant robot would be so into cartoons.” Jack said.

“That’s rude,” Raf piped up.

"Half the cartoons I grew up with were about giant robots." Miko pulled on a stubborn thread.

“Aren’t you supposed to be ‘getting your craft on’?” Starscream smirked.

Jack glared at Miko. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I’m the best influence,” Miko said, sewing colourful yarn onto her sock. “Right, OP?”

“I do not know about that.”

“What do you think, Star?” Miko addressed him directly. “Am I a good influence?”

Starscream looked to Optimus, who stared back with his usual kind but curious expression. He looked back at Miko. “Yes.”

“Told you!” Miko jeered at Jack. Jack grumbled to himself as he sewed a button onto his sock. Optimus laughed, reaching out and taking Starscream’s servo in his. Starscream relaxed back onto his berth. He would have to watch more cartoons if this one was any indication of the medium’s entertainment value. Somehow he felt at ease, surrounded by small, scurrying humans, Optimus’s servo in his, and the TV blaring away. It was more relaxed than he’d felt in a long time.

#

Starscream jumped at a strange sound. He only calmed when he realized it was the machine in the corner Ratchet left on overnight. It was finishing the parts needed to fix the organs Megatron’s giant sword cut through. He sighed deeply. He’d been lucky, so far. His former faction had been quiet, likely planning their next atrocity, and Optimus had almost unlimited time with him. He’d gotten used to the constant presence of other bots.

However, tonight an alert had sounded, signalling a Decepticon attack. It was dangerously close to a fully-staffed clothing factory. Bulkhead and Bumblebee weren’t sure if they could handle Knock-Out, Dreadwing and Airachnid by themselves. Arcee wasn’t sure if she could deal with Airachnid, and wanted to stay behind. Optimus hadn’t been sure, but Starscream had scoffed and told him to go, that Ratchet was there anyways and he wasn’t going to die while he was gone. Now he was regretting it. The base seemed so quiet with everyone gone. Ratchet was refreshing their supply of energon cubes and the med bay seemed shadowy and imposing. Starscream shivered, pulled his blanket to his chin and turned the TV up. He was being paranoid, he reasoned, and jumpy. No one was going to come into the room in the middle of the night and force his face-plate to the floor while they helped themselves to his valve. He was safe. He was just a little nervous, being in a new place all by himself. Yes, that was it. It was just like moving from his dorm room at The Royal Vos University to his apartment across from Kaon U. Yes, just like that.

He hoped Ratchet hurried back. And Optimus. He felt the heat in his body rise. He missed the Prime already. Everything felt better when he was around. Starscream had been afraid that being too injured to allow intercourse would sour their bond. It was all he was really good for. But Optimus had been kind, patient, and so unlike Megatron that Starscream was waiting for the veneer of sweetness to drop and for the Prime to start demanding things of him. Rationally, he knew that was unlikely to happen, but he couldn’t quite convince his sub-processes of it. Still, he was looking forward to being able to interface again. Optimus was more than just a frame to frag, but he was also damned good at it.

He heard something creak nearby but stubbornly remained focused on the screen. He wasn’t going to dignify his paranoia by jumping at every sound. It was probably Ratchet. He focused on trying to figure out the rules of the card game the humans were playing on the TV.

He heard the tell-tale whir of Arcee’s gun before he felt it pressed against his temple. He rolled his lone optic. “I was wondering how much longer I’d have to wait for one of you to try this. I must say, I am both impressed and disappointed.”

“Shut up.” The fembot’s voice was as cold as the Antarctic cave he thought he’d die in. The timbre of it sent a strike of fear through his spark. “I want answers.”

“I don’t know if I’ll have any that please you,” Starscream admitted, slowly raising his servos. “But I’ll try.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily.” She pressed the gun further into the warped metal on the side of his face-plate. Starscream bit his glossa to keep from crying out in pain. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “Try to resist all you want, ‘con. You’ll talk. I’ll make sure of it, or your next statement will be incoherent screaming.”

“Optimus won’t be pleased if you kill me, and I doubt Ratchet would be happy that you undid his hard work.” Starscream tried to force confidence, but his voice was starting to shake. His body was starting to tremble. He willed his body to remain neutral rather than shift into the cowering posture he was oh-so-practised at. He couldn't feel his digits or his pede-tips. His CPU felt fuzzy, like it had been disconnected and suddenly reconnected. Something was happening. He wasn’t sure what.

“Unlike you,” Arcee snarled, “I don’t have to kill people to get what I want. I have other ways to make you talk. There are so many different kinds of pain.”

The scene shifted. He disconnected and suddenly couldn’t feel the berth under him, could no longer feel the femme in the room with him. Starscream looked around. The walls around him were greyer, more oppressive, with glowing purple and red accents. Starscream’s breath stuttered. _No no no_ _, he repeated, panting, looking around frantically._ _I’m in the med bay_ _in the Autobot’s base._ _I’m somewhere safe. Optimus will be back at any moment. This isn’t happening. I’m imagining it. This isn’t real_ _._

_“Starscream...” A sing-song voice echoed off the walls, a pair of red optics emerging from the shadows. “Hello, Starscream.” Megatron purred. “How does it feel, being in the same place I was after you tore my spark out? Does it hurt?”_

_“No,” Starscream reached for his slab to ground himself. His servos flailed wildly, refusing to listen to his commands. “This isn’t happening. You’re not real.” It’s a memory, he told himself. My CPU is malfunctioning. _

_“Oh?” Megatron asked, leering down at his second-in-command. “My sweet, sweet, Starscream. Of course, it hurts. After all,” he traced Starscream’s stomach with his sword, drifting downwards, “there are so many different kinds of pain.”_

Starscream shut his optics and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you. Things are going to get rough for good ol' Screamer, but when one is healing from trauma things get worse before they get better. 
> 
> I also didn't want to shy away from what Starscream has done. He will have to answer for his actions, but he will also be given the opportunity to redeem himself (without dying. I'm looking at you, Transformers Armada). 
> 
> Speaking of TF: Armada, one of the best parts of that show was Starscream attempting to interact with human children. While I have mixed feelings about the show in general, I wanted to bring some of that energy here. 
> 
> I also wanted to explore why abusers act like they do. Optimus's speech to Raf and Bumblebee is based on research. The reality is that abuse is never about the victim. It's about power. It's people who feel powerless looking for power by hurting others. It's never justified. It's just perpetuating a cycle of violence and misery. 
> 
> The line: "there are so many different kinds of pain" comes from the recent IDW comics. In "Your First Mistake", Till All Are One #12, Vigilem takes the form of Megatron to overwhelm him with fear, using that line. Like the scene in the above chapter, Starscream starts freaking out and telling himself that Megatron isn't real and can't hurt him. I broke a little when I saw that scene. It reminded me of how I feel during my flashbacks. I knew I had to include it, just to illustrate the humanity within the character of Starscream and the sadistic nature of abusers like Megatron.
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	7. Chapter Six: Drawing Regret from the Truth of a Thousand Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Arcee come to some form of understanding. Starscream manages to walk again, and he puts his experience as a commander to use for Team Prime to help stop Megatron's dastardly plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Rape flashback aftermath, secondary trauma, discussion of past abuse
> 
> Chapter Title taken from "What I've Done" by Linkin Park (https://youtu.be/8sgycukafqQ)

CHAPTER SIX:

Drawing Regret from the Truth of a Thousand Lies

Arcee jumped back, her guns transforming back into servos. Starscream was flailing on the berth, oblivious to her words or presence, his chassis heaving as he fought against an unseen enemy. One of Starscream’s stiches ripped, energon starting to leak onto his bandages. She tentatively reached out and grabbed her enemy’s shoulder, gently shaking him. “Starscream?” she called out, “Starscream, what’s going on?”

Starscream kept screaming, and thrashing, hitting his would-be interrogator as she tried to pin him to the berth to keep him still. He fought harder at that, prompting Arcee to get off of him and step back. She called quietly, “Starscream. It’s Arcee. You’re in the med bay at the (Autobot base). You’re in a berth, recovering. You’re okay. It’s okay. Everything is okay.” 

Starscream’s awareness began to return to him. He followed her words out of the memory. It was more like walking through a space bridge than anything else. Slowly but surely the dark halls of the Nemesis infirmary faded into the warm brown rock of the Autobot’s med bay, and the taunting sounds of Megatron’s laughter gave way to the beeping of the monitors and Arcee’s calm voice. He blinked, looking around, lowering his servos from his audioreceptors. “What...what happened? Why am I bleeding?”

“I think you had a flashback, and you started freaking out.” Arcee moved her servo as soon as he started to unfurl. “You kept saying ‘this isn’t happening’ and ‘you’re not real’, and it looked like you weren’t here. I think you ripped a stitch.”

Starscream looked around, taking in the sights of the room. The fembot was starting to back away from him, moving halfway back into the shadows. He slowly put a servo over his wound. In his state, he wasn’t going to fix it by himself. He needed to slow the bleed until Ratchet returned from wherever he was. “I wasn’t. I suppose you know what that feels like.”

“Yeah.” Arcee stared at him with wide blue optics, “but I have a feeling we see different things.”

Starscream scoffed. “Don’t presume to know...”

“Bumblebee is my brother, and he helped Ratchet save your life,” Arcee interrupted, “so yeah. I think I have a pretty good idea what you were seeing.”

“So he decided to share my personal information. How very kind, and utterly professional.”

“He had a nightmare and woke up screaming about it. Oddly enough, it’s much easier for him to talk when he’s in a state of mortal terror.” Arcee crossed her arms. “I had to calm him down. He kept saying that he could see you in his processor, on your back, being ra...”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Starscream warned. “Don’t. Don’t assume you know what I’ve been through. You have no idea how much it hurts. As you said,” Starscream growled, “there are many different kinds of pain.” Arcee looked away. It was a small victory, one he seeker would usually revel in. He only felt anger and exhaustion. He needed no torture or threats to be honest. The faster he answered Arcee’s questions, the faster he could go back to watching TV. “You had some questions for me? I’ll answer them. You don’t have to threaten me.” You never did. 

“Why did you kill my partner?”

Starscream struggled to remember. He’d killed so many, and his lines were still full of medicine. Oh, yes. The red Autobot. With the horns. He remembered now. “The Decepticons don’t take prisoners. Your partner being brought back to our mine was a mistake made by inexperienced Vehicons, and I corrected that mistake. It was quick. He didn’t suffer.”

“Airachnid took me as her prisoner.” Arcee frowned. “And she’s a Decepticon.”

“Airachnid is no Decepticon. She may wear our crest, but she’s a loose cannon, and she always has been.” Starscream leaned back. “We don’t take prisoners because we believe in saving our resources for our own soldiers. As a commander, I had to demonstrate the correct Decepticon way.”

“And experimenting on his body was what, then?”

“Whatever you think it was, it wasn’t. It wasn’t personal. It was science for the sake of science. We wanted to know what dark energon would do, we had a corpse. Megatron suggested that I offer my life to the cause and I did what I had to do to save myself.” Starscream looked her in the optics. “I didn’t care if your partner was Autobot or Decepticon in that moment. I wanted to live, and he was already dead.”

Arcee looked perplexed. “Wait. Megatron suggested killing his second-in-command to figure out the properties of dark energon? He couldn't just shoot a grunt?”

“Did you really think this was the first time he’s tried to kill me?” Starscream asked mockingly. “Oh, my sweet little sparkling. Everyone in the Decepticon army was expendable except for our dear leader.” Starscream said, almost mockingly. “If he demanded any of our lives we were expected to give it. No questions asked.”

“And how did you survive so long, then?” Arcee asked. 

Starscream frowned. “I did what I had to.”

“What...” Arcee looked almost sad. Starscream didn’t like it. “What did he do to you?”

“Don’t you already know? You seemed so sure of it earlier.”

“I want to hear you say it. So I know if I’m wrong.”

Starscream looked away. “He tried to kill me. Didn’t I already tell you that?” 

“What did he do to you,” Arcee asked again. 

“He beat me every time I ever dared correct him. He beat me because he was angry about losing. He beat me because he wanted to. He...took what he wanted, whether or not I was willing.”

“You can’t say it, can you?” Arcee asked. Starscream wanted to snap at her, to snarl and get in her face-plate, but the question was asked without malice. 

“No,” Starscream admitted, “I can’t.” 

“That’s okay,” Arcee sat on his slab. “I’m glad I know.”

“Does it make you happy that I’ve been put through misery? Does it vindicate you?”

“No.” Arcee rested her servo on top of his. “I...I guess I can see you as you are, now. Not as the spark-eater I thought you were. Some of your actions make sense to me now. But,” Arcee’s optics narrowed, “that doesn’t mean I agree with you. The Autobot army struggles for resources too, but we take prisoners.”

“Oh, I’ve heard what your people do to prisoners. Don’t act like your cause is more moral.”

“Optimus court-martialed those soldiers.” Starscream had no retort. Arcee sat straighter, looking into his optics. “It doesn’t really matter. Make sure you remember this. No matter what you’ve been through, or what you had to survive...you did bad things. Don’t think we’ll forget. Or that you don’t have to answer for what you’ve done.”

“I expect to.” Starscream met her gaze. “I’ve been given an opportunity that I don’t deserve. I don’t intend to squander it.” 

“You better not. Because if you betray us,” Arcee’s tone was as cold as ice, “I’ll kill you.” 

“I would let you. I would rather die than disappoint Optimus.”

Arcee grinned. “You’ll fit right in, then.” 

Ratchet entered the med bay. “Everything alright in here?” he asked, looking from Arcee to Starscream with a raised brow-ridge.   
  
“Yes.” Starscream winked at Arcee. “I think so. Just a friendly chat.”

“That’s....hey!” Ratchet dropped his pad. “Why is my patient bleeding?”

Arcee stood up and bolted from the room. Ratchet threw a wrench at her retreating back, shouting “You’d better run!” Starscream’s already pulled stitch opened further as he laughed, doubling over and clutching his middle. 

Ratchet walked over to the door, picked up his wrench, and threw it at Starscream. Starscream yelped, ducking as the wrench sailed over his helm. The angry medic marched over, walking to his supply closet for new bandages. “I suppose you’re not going to rat her out,” Ratchet said, digging through a drawer. 

“Whatever do you mean? I must have ripped a stitch in my sleep.” Starscream smirked as Ratchet walked back over, sitting beside him. “How clumsy.”

Ratchet said nothing as he changed the bandage and re-stitched the wound closed. “Better be the last unfortunate accident, or my aim is going to get much better.”

Starscream crossed his spark with his clawed digit. “Cross my spark and hope to fry.”

“Stubborn commanders,” Ratchet muttered to himself. “Going to be the Primus-damned death of me.” After one stubborn tug, the wound was finally re-closed. “My stubborn team might kill me first. I’ve told them so many times not to fight in the infirmary. Do they listen? No.”

“You’ve had to tell them more than once?” Starscream asked.

Ratchet nodded. “We’re a close knit bunch, but that doesn’t mean we agree with each other all the time.” He started wiping down his tools as he talked, regailing Starscream like it was a completely normal topic of conversation. “Bulkhead and Arcee got into it a few cyberweeks ago, Bumblebee and Bulkhead the cyberweek before that, and Arcee and Bumblebee got into a scrap here a quartex ago. Since Cliff passed there’s been less fighting in here.” Ratchet smiled fondly. “But there’s still arguing and fighting, like any family.”

_Family, huh._ Starscream thought, leaning back onto his berth. _I remember what that’s like._ Ratchet continued. “I guess if they’re fighting with you already, that’s a good sign.”

Starscream snickered. “Is it, now?”

Ratchet gave him a long look. “It might not be,” he admitted. He stood up and put his tools away, looking over his shoulder at Starscream. “You have to understand, our factions--”

“Former factions.”  
  
“--former factions have been at war for what feels like forever. It’s going to take some getting used to for the team. The fact that you can barely move helps, but that’s not going to last forever. You might want to consider starting to make friends now.”

Starscream sighed. “How? I just had a gun pointed at my helm for questions I would have answered regardless. The kids like me, but they haven’t fought me. My reputation’s been built for cycles. That’s not going to go away because I start being nice to people.”

“You’d be surprised.” Ratchet walked back over with a fresh cube. Starscream grabbed it and drank it eagerly. “We have a high-ranking soldier who you might know as “Deadlock”, but he goes by “Drift” now.”

Starscream nearly spit out his drink. “That’s where Deadlock went? I thought he died! I was pretty sure the maniacs Megatron keeps in the Justice Division killed him.”

“Luckily for him, and for us, they didn’t.” Ratchet sat down beside him, with a cube of his own. “It took a bit to accept Drift, but not as long as you might think. Drift was very nice, very easy to get along with, and a massive, massive hippie. Half of the Autobot army doesn’t even know that he used to be a Decepticon, and the other half doesn’t care.” Ratchet shook his helm. “You might want to consider...”

“Becoming a hippie?”

“Primus, no!” Ratchet groaned. “The last thing we need is two of him. No, I’m saying that you might want to consider being kind to people, while still being yourself. I’m not saying you have to be the perfect paragon of nice, but it might be better than being sarcastic to everyone. I don’t think Starscream, the mech behind the reputation, is that bad of a mech.” 

Starscream considered that for a moment. Deadlock had always been a bit of a space-case, talking about spirituality and Primus and things Starscream couldn't even remember because he’d stopped paying attention. “What if I am sarcastic? What if that’s who I am?”

“Then be that, but try not to annoy my team into killing you.” Ratchet finished his cube. “If not for your own safety, then...”

“For Optimus?” Starscream offered. 

“No, for me.” Ratchet stood up and gently tossed his empty cube at Starscream, hitting his patient in the fore-helm. “I don’t have the parts to bring you back from the brink of death twice.” 

#

Starscream onlined to a frantic beeping. At first he was sure that one of the internal shunts had popped and he was flatlining, but as he gradually awoke he realized that it wasn’t his monitor that was beeping. There was another patient in the infirmary. 

Starscream tried to sit up, and was thrown against the wall. He protested loudly, but he knew Ratchet wasn’t listening. He doubted the medic could hear anything over the sounds of his patient screaming. 

Starscream finally sat all the way up and looked over to the operating slab. The little yellow one, Bumblebee, yeah, that was it, was flailing as Ratchet stuck a line in his arm. Fresh blue energon was spraying all over the med bay. The little mech’s digit was hanging on by a small fraying cable. Starscream could see the metal beneath the usual armour, one stick jutting out alone. Starscream almost purged his tank. 

“Scalpel!” Ratchet shouted. Starscream looked around. Arcee was darting around the med bay, looking for the scalpel, bumping Starscream’s berth and shaking it. Starscream tried to flatten himself against the wall, but he couldn't quite cross his legs to get them out of the way, and was tripping Arcee at every move. “SCALPEL!” Ratchet screamed. Both Arcee and Starscream winced. 

“I think it’s over by the fabrication table,” Starscream offered, lifting a digit to point to where he’d seen it last. 

“Thanks,” Arcee muttered, running over in the direction of his digit. She found it, grinned to herself, and ran back to the operating table. 

“Where is my...”

“Here!” Acree shoved it into Ratchet’s palm. 

“What took so long?” Ratchet sawed through the cable holding Bumblebee’s digit on. Starscream leaned over the side of the berth, but nothing would come up. Ratchet took one large servo and pushed him back onto the berth, his huge stitching needle glinting in the bright light of the med bay. Starscream saw it go down, then up, then back down, and Bumblebee gradually stilled. 

“I’m still coming off the battle high, alright?” Arcee snapped. “And I keep running into things! There’s two giant berths in here!”

“What happened?” Starscream asked, trying to look around Ratchet and Arcee to see the carnage. The missing digit wasn’t Bumblebee’s only injury. It looked like there was a...bite mark?!

“One of the vehicons bit him. We were looking at a piece of tech we hadn’t seen before and one of them just...bit him. We thought the fragger was dead,” Arcee ducked Ratchet’s swinging arm, “but he took a good chunk out of his leg to make Bee drop the pit-damned thing.” Arcee started bandaging up Bumblebee’s leg while Ratchet focused on the complicated stitching. “Bee still didn’t drop it.” Arcee looked at Bee with a look of pure pride. “So another one shot his finger off to force him to drop it.”

That...sounded more aggressive than the usual battle tactics. Starscream didn’t have long to contemplate it before a piece of Bumblebee’s digit flew through the air and landed in his lap. Starscream picked it up. It was a piece of muscle fibre, and it twitched in his servo. Starscream would deny it for the rest of his life and would tell anyone who asked that he was low on fuel and passed out from exhaustion, but he immediately fainted. 

Optimus couldn’t help but smile as he watched Starscream walk from one side of the med bay to the other unassisted. He lacked his usual grace and beauty. His long, thin legs shook as he stood up from his slab and walked to Ratchet’s table, but the delirious smile on the seeker’s face-plate was one of the most beautiful things Optimus had ever seen. He was grateful Ratchet saw fit to allow this. He was very protective over anyone he was currently treating, or had treated in the past, or was considering treating, so it surprised the Prime that Ratchet was risking another repair by letting Starscream test his limits. Optimus suspected that Ratchet just wanted Starscream out of the way in case the Decepticons increased aggression kept him busy. He’d heard about Starscream’s momentary loss of consciousness, and about how cramped the space was. He was biased, but it was probably for the best that Starscream was released into his care. 

Though he suspected that, had his room not been closer to the infirmary, Ratchet wouldn't even consider it. 

“See, Prime?” Starscream balanced himself with his arms on a rough patch of floor, “Can’t keep me tied down forever!”

“Take it easy, hotshot.” Ratchet barked. “If you rip any of my parts...”

“As if you’d put me back on the slab. You’re more than ready to be rid of me.” Starscream stuck his glossa out at Ratchet. He pivoted and quickened his pace, moving towards Optimus so fast the Prime was afraid that his love would fall over face-first. Optimus opened his arms, which only prompted Starscream to move faster. Soon, the seeker was in his arms, nuzzling at his neck. Optimus angled his face-plate so the fins on Starscream’s helm didn’t poke him in the optic. His core started to heat with the joy of having his beloved in his arms again. 

“I am,” Ratchet teased before his tone became serious, “but we still have a long way to go. You can process energon on your own and walk on your own because we prioritized the essential systems, but everything else still needs repair.” Starscream pouted, not unlike a human child. Ratchet rolled his optics. “Quit making that face at me. It doesn’t work for the kids, it doesn’t work for you. We need to talk treatment plan before we release you.”

“Fine,” Starscream huffed dramatically, letting Optimus lead him back to the slab. He sat back on it with some difficulty. “Do you want me to regurgitate the lecture you’ve been giving me for the past two solar-cycles?”

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Just tell me what you’re supposed to do.”

“No lifting anything heavier than an energon cube. No transforming. No running, jumping or dancing. No...vigorous activities. Two check-ins a solar-cycle, one including a psych evaluation, and my stitches will be removed at the end of the quartex.” Starscream seemed to be making sure his voice was as nasally and sarcastically as possible. Optimus wasn’t sure, from personal experience, if purposefully annoying Ratchet was a good idea. 

“You’re missing something.” Ratchet crossed his arms. 

“No, I’m not.” Starscream glared, crossing his arms back. _Oh great_ , Optimus thought, the second stand-off this cyberweek. 

“You have to take the medicine, Starscream. That’s non-negotiable.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed. “I’m not taking it. I won’t be dependent on a substance. Not again.”

“It’s not dependence. It will be discontinued when your pain is at a more manageable level.” Ratchet gave him a strange look. “What do you mean, again?”

Starscream’s arms uncrossed to wrap around his body as if he were trying to shield himself from Ratchet’s gaze. Optimus gently stroked Starscream’s cheek. “You can tell Ratchet, my spark. He will not,” Optimus gave Ratchet a pointed look, “judge you.”

Ratchet only scoffed at Optimus. “As if I need you to tell me not to judge my patients. I worked in Skid Row, Prime. I’ve seen things that would scare Primus.” He turned to Starscream. “If you used to have a substance abuse problem, you don’t have to tell me. It’s pretty clear from how you’re acting. I can switch over to more naturally occurring compounds that don’t form habits. They don’t work as well, and you’ll be in more pain, but it’s an option. It’s your only alternative.”

“I can handle pain,” Starscream said quietly. “I’ll take the natural option.”

“I’ll be assessing your pain levels constantly.” Ratchet warned him. “I’m not saying you have to stay confined in here, but we’ll still be seeing a lot of each other. Too much, frankly.”

“We’ll see if I can handle that. I might switch to the narcotics to get a break from you.” Starscream teased. “Who knows, you might get sick of me first. I might wind up back in here because I annoyed you to violence.”

Ratchet let out a hearty laugh. “I certainly hope not. I’m pretty patient, though you two have managed to push it to its limits. I’m looking forward to having a break.” 

“I am looking forward to recharging on a proper berth.” Starscream looked up at Optimus. “Do you still want me to recharge in your quarters, my spark?”

The innocent phrase sent a shot of arousal through the Prime, despite the earlier conversation. He’d been imagining making love in his berth since he’d started this...thing with the seeker. He could see it now, so clearly—Starscream writhing beneath him, digits tangled in his blankets, making soft little sounds as Optimus drove his spike into him over and over, or if Optimus chose to ride his spike instead...he looked down at his lover, who was watching his face-plate with one red optic. In truth, he was looking forward to some of the small things the most, like recharging with Starscream in his arms, talking into the late solar-cycles of the morning, or onlining next to each other. He stroked Starscream’s unscarred cheek. “Absolutely, my beloved.”

“About that.” Ratchet cleared his throat, “I’m telling you the same thing I’m telling him. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from...vigorous activity until we’re done with repairs.”

“You can just say interfacing, old friend. That’s what you’re referring to.” Optimus said, raising a brow-ridge at Ratchet. 

“I was also referring to sparring or training or flying.” Ratchet directed a look at Starscream. “If you transform we’ll be back at square one if you get a particularly hard punch...”

“I’ll be back at square one.” Starscream finished. “I know. You’ve been telling me that since you patched the padding around my spinal struts.”

Optimus couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between one of his oldest friends and his lover. He was relieved that they weren’t holding back, that they were pushing and pulling and bickering like they’d known each other forever. It was rather sweet, but he wanted to take Starscream back to his quarters for some...non-vigorous activity. “At the risk of belabouring the point,” he said, looking between the two of them, “I will make sure Star doesn’t risk his health by doing anything that could potentially undo his repairs. Now, I’ would d like to show Starscream to his—I mean,” Optimus couldn't keep the blush off his face-plate, “our quarters.”

“Alright, alright. Get out of here, you hopped-up turbofoxes.” He waved them off. “I have to fix the shunt for the secondary fuel line anyway. And Prime,” he said, giving Optimus a wink, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Optimus took Starscream’s servo in his, giving his old friend a wave. “I know you will, old friend.” Starscream started walking faster, practically pulling Optimus out the door. “Make sure to tear yourself away from your work long enough to come to the briefing!” He yelled as he rounded the corner. 

Starscream was almost strutting down the hallway, beaming with joy, dragging Optimus along. “You are going quite fast for someone who does not know their way.” 

“The fact that you’re letting me pull you tells me that we’re going the right way.” 

Optimus couldn't disagree with that, but he could tease. “I could just be humouring you.”

“You’re too upright and honourable for that.” Starscream looked back at him. The expression in his optics was hopeful and open. Optimus felt himself melt a little. “Hopefully you’ll be a little less upright soon.” 

“Starscream! Do you really want to answer to Ratchet?”

“You’re no fun,” Starscream protested. “Haven’t I been good?”

Optimus was glad that his spike casing and his valve cover were working, or there would be a mess on the floor. “You have been very good, my spark. Can you be good for a little bit longer? I promise I will compensate you handsomely.”

He was instantly rewarded with a high-pitched noise from Starscream, who stumbled over his steps and fell right into Optimus. “You can’t just say something like that and then make me wait.”

Optimus brought them to a stop in front of a large door. “These are my quarters.” He keyed in his code on the number pad and the door slid open. A faint glow from his charging pad illuminated the large room. He’d moved a few things around to accommodate his new roommate. We might have to wait to interface, but there are other things we can do.”

“Hmmm.” Starscream walked in, servos on his hips, sashaying as he walked into the room. He sat on the bed, bouncing a little to test it’s softness. “Shall we begin, then? I’d like to see those things you mentioned.”

Optimus pressed the button to shut the door. “Lie back, my spark. Let me take care of you.” Starscream looked away, unable to meet Optimus’s optics. He laid back on the berth but winced as his back touched the surface. Optimus was at his side instantly, helping the seeker back up. “I am sorry, my love. I did not...”

“It’s alright. I thought...I suppose I’m a little sore, after moving more than I have for a deca-cycle.” Starscream leaned into Optimus’s side. “I don’t know if I can do what you have in mind.”

Optimus bent down and kissed Starscream’s quivering lips, nudging his mouth open with his glossa. The kiss deepened as Starscream allowed his glossa in, meeting Optimus’s with his own. “I do not care,” he whispered against Starscream’s lips, “This is enough for me. You are enough for me.”

Starscream looked at Optimus with confusion, but his expression softened. “And you,” he said, leaning forward and capturing Optimus’s lips, “are enough for me.”

Starscream perched atop a barrel, watching the Autobots assemble before a screen. Optimus stood at the front of the room, loading a map to illustrate what he was about the say. The others watched him a little nervously. He supposed it was because he could move again, and was walking, talking and sitting like he had before Megatron tried to kill him. He was becoming “Starscream, Decepticon commander” again, rather than “Starscream, infirm victim”. If he was to stay here, he’d have to decide how he wanted them to see him. 

Ratchet walked over to him, scanner already out. “Everything normal,” the medic grunted, “for now.”

“Such a diligent medic,” Starscream said, realizing too late that he sounded sarcastic. 

The medic didn’t seem to notice. “You’re my patient, and therefore my problem. Get used to it.” He sat on the barrel next to Starscream. 

“Thank you all for joining me. This base has been quite busy for the past deca-cycle, and I know I have not been around to offer any explanation.” Optimus looked out at the five bots, smiling a little when his optics met Starscream’s. “I am sure you’re all aware, but I want to be absolutely transparent with you all. Starscream and I are in a relationship. I have never given him any information affecting the Autobot cause. However, Starscream recently confided in me that Megatron has planned a takeover of a human-run refinery atop an energon deposit. It is part of a larger scheme involving the inhabitants of this planet, and potentially all life on Earth. The discovery that I received this intel is why Megatron attempted to end Starscream’s life.” 

Starscream felt all the optics in the room turn to him. It was uncomfortable. His fans audibly clicked on. “What?” He asked. “I can’t do the right thing every once in a while?”

“No,” Arcee said, “I can’t remember that ever happening.” 

“First time for everything,” he retorted. 

“Megatron,” Optimus continued, his voice booming out, interrupting the bickering, “is now aware that we know his plans. We have seen increased aggression in our opponents, and I believe that this is why. This puts us at a disadvantage. We cannot stand by and let this tragedy occur, but the fact that they are anticipating us to stop them means we have to be very, very careful in how we proceed.”

“We could just let the human authorities deal with it,” Bulkhead suggested. “We warn Fowler about it, he sends in his squad, problem solved!”

“If Megatron is anticipating an Autobot attack, do you think the humans will stop him? He’ll crush them like insects.” Arcee crossed her arms. “If they already know we’re coming there’s no need for subterfuge. I say we go in guns blazing and take them out. We already know that we’re walking into a trap, we might as well go in expecting to win.”

Bumblebee let out a series of chirps. “That’s not going to work,” Ratchet replied. “If we try to outsmart Megatron, he’ll know that we knew about the ambush, which he planned while he was...” he trailed off as he looked at Starscream, “so there would only be one possible leak. The fact that he doesn’t know his former second-in-command is still alive gives us the only advantage we have in this situation.”

_There’s always the option not to help them_ , Starscream thought, but he didn’t dare say it. He knew that would make him very unpopular. It was the Decepticon way to prioritize your own over everyone else. The Autobots left no one behind. He was included in that. He rubbed his chin. When he was a commander, it was his job to work out the best possible plan for any situation. This situation, while difficult, was not impossible. If he could only see the why in the plan, then maybe...no, he couldn’t waste time sitting here contemplating it. The why didn’t matter. The how did. He knew there was something he wasn’t seeing, a piece he was missing. Then it dawned on him. “You’re all right,” he said suddenly, standing up off the barrel, “and that’s how you’re going to win this.”

Arcee scoffed. Even Ratchet looked incredulous. Optimus, however, listened. “What do you mean?”

“We need to get the human authorities involved. This involves their civilians and their resources, so it is partly their problem. Megatron knows we’re coming, so sneaking around is pointless. Acting like you knew about the ambush will tip him off that his intel is still getting out, and he’s smart enough to double-check for a body. He’ll come after me and by extension all of you.” Starscream walked to the front of the assembled crowd, looking hesitantly at Optimus. The Prime nodded, signalling for him to continue. “I have an idea.”

He expected to hear some derisive comments, even someone to tell him that he was stepping over Optimus, but everyone remained quiet. “Right, then. My idea is this: someone alerts the human authorities. They send in their men in place of the workers, or alert the workers and have a skeleton crew in place. Then, you send in one or two of your team. The conceit is that they were sent to do recon for a later operation and ‘stumble into’ the ambush. Then the rest of the team ‘rescues’ them and takes out Megatron as a singular unit. No humans get hurt, your risk is lower, and Megatron’s plans get derailed.” He finished, looking up at the looks of...agreement on everyone’s face-plate. Optimus was smiling at him. Starscream cleared his throat, the attention making him uncomfortable. “That’s just one idea. I’m sure you can come up with some better ones among yourselves.”

“No.” Optimus’s tone was final. “We will follow your strategy unless any of my team disagree.” The team shook their helms. “Starscream may have come up with the plan, but I am still your leader and I will decide how we execute it.” He winked at Starscream, who shuffled back to his seat. The seeker grinned, a little, and ignored the stares of gratitude on the Autobot’s face-plates. It didn’t feel right.

Optimus started talking about how they’d execute the plan. Starscream started to feel light-helmed like someone had pumped a bunch of helium into his helm and it would float away if he wasn’t careful. He tried to take a deep inhale, but his chassis was screaming in pain with every laboured intake. _No_ , he thought, _no_! He looked back at the other Autobots. They were focused on Optimus. Starscream couldn't blame them. He was frequently focused on the large charismatic mech as well. That meant he could slip away without any of them noticing. Every intake burned. His steps hurt. He just needed to rest for a (second). That was it. He couldn't let the team see how weak he really was. He’d rest, then he’d come back in like he’d never left at all. 

Starscream felt along the wall, looking for a stable place to lean against. He settled for flopping forwards and resting his servos on his knee-joints. He tried to take a deep intake, but it still burned. Ratchet replaced his air filtration, right? Why did this hurt so much?

“You alright there, Screamer?” Starscream’s helm snapped up. Ratchet was looming over him, his blue optics wide with concern. 

“I’ll survive,” Starscream replied. He was secretly grateful for the medic’s presence. If anyone had to see him in this state, he was fine with it being the mech who saw him when he was far worse off. “Just a little...tired, is all.”

“Uh-huh.” Ratchet gave him a quick scan. “I’ll be the judge of that.” The scanner beeped as it finished. “You’re low on fuel. Your systems aren’t operating at their full capacity, since they’re starved for energon. There might be a leak somewhere...no, no leak. Just a dented filter.” Ratchet raised a brow-ridge at him. “Have you been breaking my rules already?”

“I don’t have the energy for that,” Starscream groaned. “It took half my strength just to walk from Optimus’s--”

“Your.”

“My room.” Starscream corrected. “From my room to the briefing.”

“Hmm. No matter how your filter was dented, it still needs to be fixed.” Ratchet helped Starscream stand back up. “Our bodies may be incredible, and adaptable, but they still seem to need lots of little touch-ups, don’t they?”

Starscream laughed, though it was just a bit painful. “We could be organic, couldn’t we? Have squishy bodies that can barely take a single shot?”

Ratchet shivered. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Imagine being that fragile.”

Starscream smirked as they re-entered the room. He wasn’t able to go back to his perch, so he just leaned against the wall. Ratchet sat next to him, still evaluating his condition. 

“He did good, didn’t he?” Starscream overheard. Bulkhead was talking to Arcee, closer to the front of the room. 

“Optimus?” Arcee asked. 

“No,” Bulkhead shook his helm. “Starscream. Boss bot always does good, it’s a surprise when the D-con does.”

_Surprise? I’ll show you a surprise!_ Starscream thought. 

“I guess he did,” Arcee said. “I’m surprised he’s doing much of anything in his state.”

“I know, right? Did you see him leave just now? He looked like he was going to pass out.” Bulkhead shook his helm. “Poor guy. No one deserves that level of suffering.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised his CPU wasn’t rattled. I hope this plan he came up with works.” Arcee scoffed. “Primus knows he won’t see combat for a while.”

“Good point! Half his plans did seem to fail when he was with the D-cons, that’s for sure.” Starscream was considering showing Bulkhead and Arcee just how combat-ready he was. He didn’t care if he ripped a stitch or bent another filter, or if the internal leak started again. He’d show them why he was a commander if he had to rip their throats out or bash their miserable helms against the wall...

“I think those failures came down to using drones instead of trained, competent soldiers.” Optimus walked up to his teammates. Starscream smiled to himself. He could count on his Optimus to defend him. “But I agree.”

_He...agrees?_ Starscream thought, his face-plate falling. Ratchet looked to him, his expression unreadable. 

“I have faith in Starscream’s intelligence, but I too worry that he has damage that we are as of yet not aware of that may affect his capabilities.” Optimus’s optics were kind, but his words hit Starscream like a slap to the face-plate. He felt tears start to build in his optics. He was vaguely aware of Ratchet talking beside him, but he was focused on Optimus. 

“I have to go,” Starscream muttered, turning away from Ratchet mid-sentence. He ignored the medic’s shouts for him to stay, walking as fast as he could with his injuries until he was out of sight of the “living room”. 

Starscream slowly walked back to his shared quarters. He didn’t want to answer questions or hear encouragement. It was all a lie. He didn’t deserve it. He knew that. And they did too. They thought he was useless, and so did he. He could have stopped this whole plot before it even started, and he didn’t. He was just playing catch-up, trying to make up for his grave mistakes. And now, who knew if he could even do that? 

He keyed in the code that he’d stolen from over Optimus’s shoulder, wasting no time flopping face-first onto the berth. He’d enjoyed being Commander Starscream, brilliant strategist again, and that frightened him. Commander Starscream was a Decepticon, someone who made plans specifically designed around an expendable army without any regard for civilians. Autobots didn’t do that. Optimus didn’t do that. He was so stupid! Why had he ever thought he was capable of being anything more than a berth warmer! He was finally free of Megatron, but the toxic ideals he’d instilled in Starscream wouldn’t go away. He stared up at the ceiling, rolling over onto his side when his wings started to hurt. Maybe Megatron was right. Maybe all he’d ever be was a ruthless, cruel incompetent and a good lay. 

The door slid open. Optimus sat next to him on the berth. “I was surprised to see you leave so soon.”

“I was tired,” Starscream said. It was only a half-lie. “And I was unnecessary. I have no part to play in this scheme, I thought it pointless to discuss it further.”

“Everyone was impressed by your logic. They think your plan is brilliant.” Optimus rubbed soothing circles into the spot between his wings. 

Starscream scoffed. “No, they don’t. I heard what you were saying to Arcee and Bulkhead.” Optimus’s servo stilled. _Caught him_ , Starscream thought bitterly. _For whatever good that does_. “I know what you really think of me.”

Optimus sighed. “Why will you not trust me, my love?”

“Why won’t you say what you mean?” Starscream countered. 

“Do not deflect.” Optimus shook his helm. “You do not trust me.”

“I want to,” Starscream admitted quietly, laying his helm down on the berth. He really did. He missed having people he could trust around him, like his trine. He trusted TC and ‘Warp with his very life. They were his family. He wanted that with Optimus, but how could he? No matter how much he told himself that Optimus wasn’t like Meg—his former lover, it seemed like his processor was always looking for reasons to prove him wrong. 

“Then let me tell you the full truth of the conversation.” Optimus resumed rubbing his wings. “You left when you heard me say that you may have injuries we do not know about that may affect your capabilities. What you did not hear was me saying that I did not think they would hold you back from being a powerful ally.” Starscream looked up. Optimus was smiling down at him. “Arcee and Bulkhead agreed. They think the fact that you told me about Megatron’s plan at risk for yourself, putting yourself through all this pain, and then coming up with a better plan than we were able to, shows that even in your injured form, you’re a great help to our cause.” Starscream couldn't quite return the smile. Embarrassment had replaced his anger. All he could do was blink dumbly at Optimus. “They think you have the potential to be one of us. So do I.”

Starscream shook his helm. “I don’t know if I want that.” He knew it would be part of his penance, eventually, especially if he really did the ceremony he’d been thinking about...but he would put it off as long as possible until he could figure out if it was what he wanted. 

“I know, darling. I know.” 

“Will you let me stay here if I don’t?”

“Do you want to remain a Decepticon?”

Starscream thought for a moment. “No. I don’t. The Decepticon ideal is Megatron’s vision, one I struggled to fit. I changed myself so much to live up to it that I don’t even recognize myself. I was a scientist, Optimus, and a leader. Sure, I wanted glory and accolades, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone. All I cared about was knowledge and helping my city. Now, look at me. I’m a killer. I’m a torturer. How can you even look at me and see someone worth saving?” He looked at Optimus with teary optics. 

“Because I love you,” Optimus said, simply. Starscream started to cry. 

“How? I’m so fragging broken. I can’t trust the mech who saved my life. I hurt everyone who gets close to me. I’m a burden and a failure. I just want to heal,” Starscream whimpered. “I just want to move on, and be Starscream again. But I don’t even know who that is! How can you love me? I don’t even know me!”

“Love is not rational. There are no reasons for it, there is no system or criteria behind it. I just love you. That is all there is to it. And I believe everyone has the potential to become better than they are. No one is beyond saving. Even you.”

“So I’m just like anyone else. Even Megatron.”

“That is not what I said and you know it. Yes, even Megatron, though it would not be hard for Megatron to become a better version of himself since he is already terrible. All he would have to do to become better is equipping basic manners.” 

Starscream laughed, covering his mouth with his servo. It felt so wrong to mock his former leader, but he couldn't resist. Optimus continued. “But you? You risked everything to tell me about this attack. You have chosen to be civil towards my team rather than shut them out. You came up with a plan that balances the needs of my soldiers with the needs of the humans we protect. Those are not the actions of someone who revels in their past as a killer or a fiend. Those are the actions of someone who wants to change.”

“I want to. I want to so badly.” Starscream whispered. “But I don’t know if I can. I’m going to let you down. I’ve already let myself down. I’ve let everyone in my life who believed in me down.”

“Cybertronians adapt. It’s who we are.” Optimus patted Starscream’s helm. 

Starscream stroked the fingers running across his helm. “Yes,” he agreed. “I am still a son of Cybertron. I am still Starscream of Vos. I am a seeker, and I will seek my own healing.” The words sounded weak, and he said them without conviction, but speaking them aloud had convinced him it was possible. He would heal, he would adapt, and he would survive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter was uploaded on Valentine's day, I have this to say: Happy Valentines day, you janky robutts. 
> 
> I can't thank you ENOUGH for the comments and kudos. It means so much more than you could ever know, and I love all of you. 
> 
> As I was writing I tried to figure out where this takes place in the show so I could clarify the timeline to my readers. Just assume that it takes place in an alternate timeline to the original show. Some events will take place as they did on the show, and some will take place out of order or not at all. I've detailed the timeline on my Tumblr that I made for this fic...link below. 
> 
> My idea of the Decepticons prioritizing their own soldiers over prisoners isn't necessarily canon, but I did notice that in most of the shows they lack the same resources the Autobots do and that they are reluctant to take prisoners, TFP being no exception. So I put two and two together. I also didn't want Arcee and Starscream to be buddy-buddy just because she sees him at his most vulnerable. That's not realistic. They will become friends later on after more development. 
> 
> Also, Starscream being incompetent makes for funny television, but it does not make for good fiction. So Starscream is going to use his intelligence and ruthlessness to help his lover's team. I don't think that Starscream would be able to interact with Team Prime without arguing or bickering with them, either, but eventually, it will all be from a place of love. 
> 
> Mostly. 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Edit notes: 09/11/20: added scene with Bumblebee
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	8. Chapter Seven: Lose the Fight, Win the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team executes Starscream's plan, and Starscream agrees to participate in therapy. Reluctantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Flashbacks, mentions of death and domestic violence, discussion of past rape
> 
> Title of chapter comes from "Protector" by City Wolf (https://youtu.be/JVla5FgJQso)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lose the Fight, Win the War

Optimus waited with bated breath, watching a cloud of dust follow Arcee through the Nevada night. He kept reminding himself that she volunteered to be the ‘scout’, which was in many ways the most crucial parts of their plan. Starscream’s plan. Bumblebee shifted beside him, reminding the prime that he wasn’t the only one nervous about this portion of the plan. The trees providing them minimal coverage shook as Bumblebee’s entire body rattled with nervousness. Any more shaking and he was liable to roll off the cliff the forest was situated on. 

“It’ll be fine, ‘Bee,” Bulkhead reassured him. “She knows what she’s doing.” Bumblebee let out a high-pitched chirp. “You gotta stop shaking, or else you’re going to give away our position.” Bee chirped again. “I know the ‘cons are busy, but you never know who’s watchin’.”

Optimus dimmed his optics, focusing on listening for the distress call that would be their signal to move. Fowler’s channel flashed at the corner of his display. “Agent,” he greeted. 

“All set on our end, Prime. The skeleton crew was sent to the shelter the second the vehicons landed. Are you sure about this? Are you sure we can...”

“We can trust his intel, Fowler. Prime over and out.” He disconnected his line to Fowler. He needed to keep his audials open for the signal, and he’d already answered the same question from Fowler three times. Yes, he trusted Starscream, and they were using his plan. However, the longer he went without the signal, the more doubt crept into his spark. 

The sharp staccato of Arcee’s signal shot through all of their audials. “We move,” Optimus ordered, “now.”

Bumblebee and Bulkhead transformed without a word and jumped the cliff. Optimus looked out over the rising moon and transformed as well, hoping to Primus that they’d be able to stop Megatron in time.

Starscream paced the monitor room, his heels clacking on the cement floor. He kept stealing glances at the screens, looking away when Ratchet caught his stare. He absentmindedly chewed his lip. Optimus would be okay. The plan would work. The team would be fine. He just needed to get it together. There was no guarantee that Mega—that his former leader would do his own dirty work. He was nervous for nothing. It was nothing, the team was safe, it was nothing, the team was safe, it was nothing...

“Can you be quiet?” Ratchet asked. Starscream flushed hot, not noticing that he’d been verbalizing his little mantra. “I’m trying to monitor the mission and I can’t do that if all I can hear is your obnoxious voice and stomping pedes!”

“Sorry,” Starscream murmured, pausing in his pacing. “Is Optimus...”

“His life signals are coming through, loud and clear. He’s fine.” Ratchet turned from the screen to glare at the seeker. “Do you always do this when Optimus is fighting? How did no one catch you pacing and fretting about Optimus on the Nemesis?”

“In all fairness,” Starscream snapped back, angry at being reminded of his old ‘home’, “I was usually dispatched to fight if Optimus was involved. I didn’t need to pace or fret because I knew I was going to be there!”

“What’s with the attitude? You don’t handle helpless well, do you?” Ratchet retorted. “Settle down, and let the most capable warriors Cybertron has ever seen do his job.”

Starscream leaned against the wall and frowned, crossing his arms. He tried to force the memories of his squadron from his CPU and focus on the present, namely trying to look around Ratchet to see the screens, but he’d heard the same thing before. Even the most capable could die.

The last words Sunstorm said to him echoed in his processor. _“Don’t worry, Commander. We’re the most capable seekers Cybertron has ever seen. We’ve got this. Let us do our jobs.”_ Starscream had been too injured to follow, but Ramjet, Dirge, Slipstream and Sunstorm had all perished on that mission. Thundercracker and Skywarp refused to play him the last recordings saved to their memory banks. They insisted that he didn’t need to hear them, that it was better that he remembered how his squad looked before Megatron sent them out: confident, loyal, and happy.

The last words Skyfire told him joined in. _“We’ve been studying this planet for_ _cycle_ _s, Star. We know it like the back of our_ _servo_ _s. If anyone’s qualified to do this, I am. I’ll go down, get the samples, and be back before you know it. We’ll never get another shot like this, let me do my job.”_ No one had ever found Skyfire’s body. Starscream had searched for his lab partner and best friend for ages, flying the alien skies until he’d been forcibly evacuated when a storm hit.

The last words he’d shared with his trine shook him to the core. _“Come on Screamer. It’s an easy mission._ _We’re the most capable flyers in Megatron’s whole fragging army, and you know it. Besides, it’s finding energon. It’s what we’re best at. It was our job for_ _cycle_ _s. See you soon, Star.”_

He’d found Thundercracker with his spark ripped out. There wasn’t even enough of ‘Warp left to bury.

“Capable doesn’t mean a thing, medic, and you know that,” he mumbled. He’d wanted to shout initially, to scream and rant and rave, but he couldn't. He wouldn’t be able to relax until Optimus was back at the base.

“I do,” Ratchet answered, surprising Starscream. “But let me have a little hope, alright?”

“Hope is a luxury we don’t often have in war,” Starscream conceded, “but I will if you can hope enough for both of us.”

Ratchet chuckled. “Despite my rough exterior, I can hope enough for the whole team.”

“Rough? Not sure about that. It looks smooth to me,” Starscream joked, dodging an empty cube of energon thrown across the room.

Arcee was being held within the labyrinth of tunnels making up the refinery. The action was because the vehicons probably assumed her signal would be harder to trace underground. They didn’t know that the Autobots were already close by when they’d taken her, and that, with Ratchet’s help, they’d never stopped tracking her. The walls seemed to narrow the deeper they went, and he could hear less and less as they descended. Even his own pedesteps seemed muffled.

“I don’t like this, Optimus,” Bulkhead said. “I feel like we’re walking into a trap.”

“We are, without a doubt.” Optimus’s servo transformed into gun form. He felt the burn of energon that would power the weapon in his fuel lines. “But it does not matter. We must rescue Arcee.” _Before my trust in a_ _reformed_ _enemy gets her killed._

They paused before a door, Bumblebee and Bulkhead waiting for permission to kick the door in. Optimus nodded and Bulkhead used one massive pede to open the door separating them with a loud bang. The Decepticons started firing before they’d even entered, sending bright purple blasts ricocheting through the halls. Optimus’s optics narrowed. _They’re getting cocky, but that means they might be getting sloppy._ Using the corner for cover, Optimus shot three of the vehicons through the helm, dropping them instantly. Something wasn’t right. Megatron should be here. It was his plan and his ambush. Still, Bumblebee raced in, took out the remaining vehicons, and freed Arcee. The fembot walked out of the room rubbing her wrists but was otherwise unharmed.

“Did that seem easier than expected to anyone else?” Arcee asked. “Even for...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. In the blink of an optic the halls filed with Decepticons, weapons trained on the gathered Autobots. The crowd parted to allow Megatron through but otherwise remained focused on eliminating their targets if they made one wrong move.

“Hello, Optimus. Surprised to see me?” Megatron taunted, one brow-ridge raised. “Serves you right, to take intel from traitors.”

Optimus struggled to contain his emotions. The casual, callous way he spoke about Starscream made his entire body hum with angry energy. “Where are the humans?” He barked, channelling his rage into something less suspicious.

“Cowering in a closet, of all things. They are not my concern, however. I have been given a rare opportunity to catch Optimus Prime unaware, and I’ve been looking forward to this. Prepare for battle, Prime. You won’t leave this place alive.”

 _Unaware? We’ll see about that._ Optimus put his face-mask up to hide his wide grin. “The only way you think you can defeat me is to lead me into a trap. That tells me more about your skills as a combatant than it gives me a disadvantage.” Optimus felt his body vibrate. He’d been wanting to punch Megatron in his stupid face-plate since cradling his beloved’s broken body in the middle of the desert. There was no way the former gladiator could beat him, not like this.

Ratchet looked over his shoulder before inputting the codes to take over the government satellites Fowler had granted them “temporary” access to. The medic grunted as he focused them on the refinery. Starscream scoffed. It wasn’t as if he was going to sabotage the mission or be bothered by the sight of his former colleagues. If he, by chance, saw the codes, what was he going to do with non-weaponized satellites? Watch different television shows? Spy on miserable humans? No, such caution was pointless, though he was somewhat grateful that his irritation with Ratchet was distracting him from his increasing anxiety.

“You’ve stopped pacing, but you’re still loud as the pit itself. I can hear you breathing from across the room. Can’t you just go watch TV or something?”

“No. This is my plan, my vision. I won’t sit idly, waiting for them to return. I will monitor the situation and determine where I can improve my next plan.” Starscream crossed his arms.

“You’re not a commander anymore.”

“I must do something to earn my keep, and at the moment, all I can offer is my processor.” Starscream smiled to himself. He’d commanded his seeker squadron from his sickbed before the war, when he had a virus and it took all his strength to keep from purging his tanks when he tried to sit upright, keeping himself from being ousted and replaced. If this plan could work, he’d secure himself some measure of protection.

“You don’t have to ‘earn your keep’ here. Even if all you want to do is recharge in Optimus’s room and eat candied energon, you can continue to stay with us. There’s no expectation of usefulness.”

Starscream laughed to himself. “That’s why your side hasn’t won this war. You’re too busy wasting resources on the weak.”

“Your side hasn’t won either,” Ratchet snapped, “so I wouldn’t talk too much.”

Starscream’s engine started to rumble. He may have been disillusioned by the Decepticon cause, but he’d devote millennia of his life to the advancement of their army. His pride was wounded, and he felt brief anger rise up within him.

The monitor began to beep. Starscream’s helm swivelled towards it. The battle had left the refinery and spilled into the desert beyond. Starscream rushed over to the controls and entered the command for the satellites to zoom in. Optimus’s biosignatures were reading that he’d been dealt a particularly hard blow to the helm. Optimus was stumbling backwards, his gun-servos pointing at the ground as he tried to right himself. A dark shadow covered the Prime, getting ever closer to the Autobot leader. If Starscream wasn’t mistaken, Megatron seemed to be looming over him. Yes, the image on the screen was unclear and the satellite too far away to make out any details, but the posture was clear if the glow of the sword was not. Starscream started backing away from the screen. Everything in him told him to run, to hide, but he couldn’t move past a few hesitant steps and raising his servo to his mouth. _It’s just a video feed. It’s just an image. He can’t see me. He can’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me. He’s going to hurt Optimus. He’s going to hurt Optimus. He’s going to..._

Starscream felt his knees touch the floor, shaking him out of his stupor. Ratchet stared down at him, his blue optics wide. “He’s okay, Star. Optimus beat him. Everything is okay.” Starscream nodded, shaking his helm until his awareness returned. He slowly stood up, leaning against the wall for support. He looked at the screen. The Decepticons were retreating. Optimus was safe. Megatron hadn’t succeeded.

“That’s good,” Starscream said, his voice raspy. “That’s very good.” He tried to smile, and only managed a small twitch of the lip. Ratchet seemed unconvinced and started the preparations to space-bridge the team home, leaving Starscream to his thoughts.

He’d lost it. He’d lost it big time. He wanted to curl in on himself, wanted the floor to split open beneath him and swallow him whole. How could he help the team if he fell to pieces whenever Megatron was near them? They were the Autobots, for crying out loud, that was going to happen, and it was going to happen often! He felt sick. Maybe he needed to lie down.

“Hey,” Ratchet called to him softly. “You’re going to hurt your knees if you’re down there for too long. We just replaced those.”

Starscream tried to stand up, but Ratchet was right. His new knees locked into position, and moving them manually was proving difficult. Ratchet came to his side and helped him up. “Thanks,” Starscream muttered.

“You’re welcome.” Ratchet said, in a bit of disbelief. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever thanked me without the influence of sedatives.”

“First time for everything.” Starscream let his body adjust to being upright again.

“I suppose so.” Ratchet smiled warmly at him. “Are you...okay?”

Starscream sighed. “I will be, once Optimus walks through the bridge.”

Ratchet gave him a long look. “Sure,” he said doubtfully, moving them out of the way as the bridge came online.

Megatron swung his sword, narrowly missing Optimus’s midsection. Optimus knew getting in sword-range was a gamble, but he wanted to get in a good shot. As he dodged he struck Megatron in the spinal struts, forcing a wheeze out of the tyrant, knocking him to the ground. He whirled around and pointed his gun at Megatron’s helm. A cloud of dust settled around them as their battle ended. “Yield.”

“Never,” Megatron hissed. “Not to you, not to anyone!”

“Then you will die here,” Optimus growled, his guns whining as they prepared to fire. Megatron’s face-plate filled him with irrational rage. He wanted to beat it in with his pede, stomp Megatron into the sand and leave him to bleed out. Shooting him point-blank was too merciful, but at least his love would be safe once Megatron’s ugly corpse hit the ground.

Megatron seemed to realize that Optimus wasn’t going to let him live. He rolled out of the way at the last moment, the blaster shot burning the sand where Megatron’s helm had been a moment before. Megatron slowly got to his pedes, but Optimus was on him before he could get both pedes under him. He drove his knee into Megatron’s middle, forcing the tyrant to cough up half-digested energon. He didn’t stop. He drove his knee into Megatron again and again until he could feel the metal of his opponent’s stomach bend under him. A vehicon latched onto his back and tried to pull him off, but it only got Optimus to move to punch. It took another two vehicons to pull him off Megatron, and another two to force Optimus to the ground. Even as the drones used their bodies to pin him down, Optimus struggled, growling, still trying to get to Megatron.

The Decepticon leader got up and wiped a line of energon off his chin. “You seem troubled, Prime. You usually stop short before actual brutality. You fought like a Decepticon.”

Optimus only growled in response. Megatron transformed into his alt mode, immediately rising up, straight out of Optimus’s range. The vehicons got off and transformed, tearing off into the desert. “It doesn’t matter. You may have stopped me this time, but you’ve no idea what I’ve planned. The intel you gained from that miserable traitor has done you no good.”

Optimus considered taking Megatron’s helm off just for daring to speak ill of his beloved, but he restrained himself. “I do not need intel to beat you, Megatron. You know this to be true.” Megatron snarled in response. Covering fire from the air patrol surrounded them, forcing Optimus to jump back away from his opponent. Megatron started to laugh, the rumbling raspiness clear as crystal even over the sounds of fighting around them. _They must have reformatted some of their_ _grunt_ _s to compensate for their lack of...well, Starscream,_ Optimus thought.

“We shall see. Until next time, Prime.” He heard over the sounds of whirring engines. “May it be the last time.”

Optimus considered attempting to snipe Megatron from the ground, but he decided against it. He knew he didn’t have that range. Optimus wanted to get back to the base, and back to Starscream. The seeker would be so happy that his plan worked. He commed Ratchet and told him to open the ground-bridge, looking behind him one last time. Megatron seemed very confident with his defeat. He wondered what else the brutal leader could have planned, and if he’d be able to stop him without killing him, without crossing a line that was becoming harder and harder to remain on every solar-cycle.

#

As soon as Optimus came through the bridge, Starscream was on him, plastered to his chassis. The team laughed, streaming in around them before Ratchet shut the ground-bridge. Optimus couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed by it. He was equally happy to see Starscream, gently picking him up bridal style and nuzzling their helms together. “Hello, my spark.”

“Hello,” Starscream said happily, slowly moving his arms up to wrap around Optimus’s neck. “Did it work?”

Optimus let out a rumbling laugh. Starscream braced as his lover’s chassis shook. “It did, yes. Your plan was brilliant.”

“Damn right it did!” Bulkhead yelled from across the room. “We showed those ‘cons who’s boss!” He raised his servo up and Bumblebee gave him a hard high-five. “Too bad Ratch doesn’t have any high grade lying around.”

“Who says I don’t?” Ratchet waltzed back into the room, two giant cubes of purple-ish energon sloshing around within. _It was_ _high_ _grade_ , Optimus mused. He could smell the fermentation and highly processed scent from across the room. “I just keep it hidden to bring out on special occasions.”

“And this is one of those?” Arcee scoffed.

“We saved a whole mine, I’d say it is. With help from our new friend.” Ratchet winked at Optimus. “You don’t have to partake if you don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say that,” Arcee walked over and snatched a cube, taking the first sip. She raised it high in the air, some of it sloshing out onto her servo. She didn’t seem to care. “To victory!”

“To victory!” The rest of the team shouted, raising their fists in the air. Optimus gently set Starscream down, but immediately took his servo to hold it. He needed to keep touching Starscream. He needed to feel him beside him, needed to know that Megatron hadn’t won. To give him hope that he wouldn't.

Starscream pulled away from him, almost subconsciously. It looked like he was pulling towards the exit, his pedes taking him where his unconscious processes wanted to go. Optimus wanted to snap him out of it, ask him what was wrong, but he couldn't find the words.

“Here you are, Optimus. To our glorious leader.” Ratchet interrupted his leader’s thoughts by shoving a cube into his servos. Starscream reached for it and Ratchet smacked his servo away. “None for you. It’ll interact with your pain medicine.”

“Oh, come on!” Starscream whined. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Yeah, and you don’t need any intoxicants to make your solar-cycle worse.” Ratchet glared at Starscream as Optimus took a drink. High grade didn’t affect him as much as the average mech, but Ratchet’s personal stash was certainly strong. Starscream stuck out his glossa at Ratchet. No, his lovely seeker didn’t need anything else in his system. He was already a servoful without adding intoxication.

Optimus passed the cube back to Ratchet. “Thank you, my friend, but this should be shared among the team. They are the real heroes.”

“Here-here!” yelled Arcee, running over and taking the cube from a stunned Ratchet. “Good, uh, good plan, Screamer,” Arcee said, her words already getting slurred. She patted Starscream’s shoulder a little too roughly, causing the seeker to wince.

Arcee went back to the group. Starscream watched her go, stepping closer to Optimus. “We do not have to stay here, my love.” Optimus stroked Starscream’s intact cheek. “We can go back to our quarters and celebrate by ourselves.”

Starscream sighed. “Yeah, we could, but I should at least try to be a team player.” He looked over at the group. “Plus, I might be able to convince Bumblebee to give me a sip of the good stuff.”

Optimus walked them over to the team. “Then we shall try. But if you are feeling too tired...”

“I will tell you, and we’ll go back to our room.” Starscream gave Optimus a slightly dopey smile. “I’m just...I’m so glad that you’re alive. That you made it back.”

“And I am glad that I get to return to see my love, waiting for me with open arms.” Optimus bent down and gave Starscream a gentle kiss.

That kiss prompted some rather childish jeering from the team. Optimus pulled away and playfully glared at his team, swiping one of the cubes and downing half of it in one go. He looked over his shoulder, saw Ratchet coming towards them, and gave the cube to Starscream. “Make it quick.”

Starscream smirked and tossed back a small sip of high grade, passing it back to Optimus. Bumblebee knowingly elbowed Starscream and Starscream returned it, laughing when Bumblebee chirped at him and tried to give his helm a friendly rub. Optimus sighed contentedly. Perhaps it was the high-grade, but he was in a wonderful mood.

Ratchet joined their little circle and grabbed the cube, taking his turn to sip from its contents. He wiped his mouth and let out a cheer. “Take that, ‘Cons!”

“Take that, ‘Cons!” The team yelled after. Optimus’s smile only deepened when Starscream yelled along with them, laughing and smiling with the rest of the team.

The fight was still heavy on his processor, but Optimus didn’t want to ruin the evening. He would push it down, way into the deepest levels of his sub-processes, and confront the issue later. For now, he had a celebration to enjoy.

Starscream woke up with a start. He’d enjoyed celebrating a mission well-done with the team once they returned, despite his earlier issues, and was optimistic about a night without nightmares. He’d been a fool, and optimism was not a mistake he’d repeat again. He could still feel the burn of Megatron’s gun at his temple, even waking in Optimus’s surprisingly cold room. He glanced over at his still recharging bedmate. Optimus was still slumbering blissfully, rolling over with a whine at the loss of contact from Starscream sitting up. _Heh_ , Starscream thought. _He’s adorable when he’s recharging. Like a baby turbofox_.

Sleep would not come easy from here, Starscream knew. He swung his legs to the floor, wincing at the sudden movement He might as well go for a walk. No point sitting awake in the dark trying not to wake his partner.

His pedes always seemed to take him to the med bay. Maybe because that was where he’d spent the most time while at Outpost Omega One, or whatever they called it. Maybe because Ratchet talked to him the most out of anyone but Optimus. Still, once again he found himself peering in, listening for the low din of Ratchet’s machines and the whine of the energon processor. He was hoping the medic would be asleep, and that he could avoid any conversation. Maybe he could just clean up for him, for something to do. However, as bright blue optics lifted from a table and met his, Starscream knew that he was out of luck.

“Can’t sleep?” Ratchet asked.

“Felt antsy. Thought I’d get up, start using my legs again.”

The answer and small smile didn’t fool the medic. “Get in here.”

Starscream huffed but obeyed, stomping in and dramatically seating himself on the table next to the mesh Ratchet was untangling. “Optimus must be rubbing off at me. I’m getting worse and worse at lying.”

“I’m also used to dealing with a gaggle of stubborn bots who respond to every inquiry about their health with “I’m fine”, even as energon gushes out of a wound the length of their arm.” Ratchet set down his tools. “Nightmares?”

Starscream nodded. “What of it?”

“Sleep is important to your recovery. So if you’re not sleeping, it’s my business.”

“Seems that everything about me is your business,” Starscream said, as sarcastic and venomously as possible.

“You’re on psychiatric watch. It is.” Ratchet met Starscream’s optics directly. “So I’m asking. Have you recharged at all since we took you off the sedatives?”

“I get a few solar-cycles a night.”

“That’s not great.”

“It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“Marginally.”

“I usually go back to recharge when I wake up. Eventually. Sometimes I’ll stay up and read on one of Optimus’s datapads.” Starscream leaned back, stretching the last dregs of sleep away. “I feel like I’m functioning as well as can be expected. I don’t see the point of this “watch”.”

“Unfortunately for you, ‘as well as can be expected’ still isn’t great, or even baseline.”

Starscream growled. Ratchet ignored him. “I’m not lifting your psychiatric watch unless you talk to me,” he said, leaving no room for argument. “Like it or not, I am your medic now, and I’m not going to let things slide like Knock-Out. I’m not self-obsessed and neglectful of my patients.”

 _Rude, but true_ _,_ Starscream thought, remembering having to insert his own line to start pumping in medicine while Knock-Out preened nearby. “Fine,” he said bitterly, “but I’m going to hate it.”

“What you like really doesn’t matter to me. What you need does.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Starscream admitted.

“What did you see in your nightmare? There’s a place to start.”

Starscream absentmindedly poked at a loose bolt on the table. “It was...there was one incident where Megatron put his gun to my helm because I talked back to him, and didn’t want to...do things. He said he'd kill me if I didn't shut up and take his spike.” He could still feel Megatron’s exhaust on his neck. “In the dream, he’s so big. When it pushes in, it feels like I’m being ripped in half. It’s like he’s taking over my body, like he’s so big I’m being sucked in. I know it wasn’t really like that. I know that it...it wasn’t that bad. But in my dreams, it’s painful, and it’s hot, and it burns...” Starscream started rocking back and forth on his pedes, staring at the floor. Ratchet grabbed his arm and he flinched, stepping back away from the medic. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I got carried away.”

“No, it’s alright.” Ratchet went to fetch a chair for Starscream to sit down. “Dreams are funny, you know. The CPU cannot tell the difference between what it’s concocted and reality. They feel real. If they didn’t, nightmares wouldn't bother anyone.”

“I suppose so.” Starscream let out an exhale. “Doesn’t mean they’re easy to deal with.”

“No, I suppose not.” Ratchet sat down on his work table, crossing his legs. “Do you talk about your nightmares? With anyone?”

“I’ve never...I don’t talk about it. Not even with Optimus. He doesn’t know the specifics. He gets so sad whenever it comes up that I just stopped talking about it.”

“That’s because he cares about you. It hurts him that these things happened to you.”

Starscream refocused on the table. “I know. I do. But I don’t...every time I think about it I want to purge my tank.”

“When you think about it,” Ratchet started, tentatively, “what do you feel in your body?”

“The urge to purge. I feel shaky, and dizzy, and cold. Or I feel nothing. Maybe my CPU disconnects from the sensory nodes to make things easier. I think I read that once.” He keyed in the co-ordinates, focusing the picture further, zooming in. “Do you recall who said it?”

Ratchet saw through his attempt to change the subject. “What does it feel like?” Ratchet asked, poking at Starscream’s chassis, right over his spark casing. “In here?”

“It doesn’t feel like anything.” Starscream said quietly. “It feels empty. Like I don’t have a spark at all. Or I feel everything, and it hurts. There’s nothing in between. Either way, I feel this burning in me. Like acid eating away at my insides.”

“Is it anger?”

“I used to think so, but I don’t know. That’s part of it. I’m angry at him, for doing this to me. But I’m angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“Would it be safe to say that it’s more shame than anger?” Ratchet asked softly.

Starscream nodded. “Maybe. I feel...disconnected from it, whatever it is.”

“I’m assuming that you weren’t able to freely express your emotions on the Nemesis.”

“I was a commander. Of course not. I’d cry at night in my chambers, but outwardly? I couldn't show weakness. Not to anyone.”

“Emotions were weakness?”

“Have you ever met Megatron? If I screamed, or frag it, even whimpered, he’d laugh and beat me harder. He liked it better when I’d cry. He said I looked prettiest with tears running down my cheeks and a spike in my throat. If I dared correct him in front of the rest of the army I could look forward to a trip to the med bay. He’s a monster. He’s a pit-spawned spark-eater.” Starscream settled his ranting, looking back at Ratchet. “What?”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Can you really tell me that some part of you doesn’t think I deserved it?”

“No,” Ratchet said without hesitation. “No, I do not.”

A single tear fell from Starscream’s optic. “I do.”

“I know.”

The two mechs sat in silence for a few moments. “Do you feel like you want to hurt yourself?” Ratchet asked finally.

Starscream shook his helm. “No. I want to hurt Megatron. If your thought is based on the shame I apparently feel, you’ve nothing to fear. I’ve already been through enough physical punishment. I have no intention of causing myself anymore.”

“That’s good,” Ratchet said, “but I still want you on psychiatric watch.”

“What?!” Starscream sputtered.

“Lessened psychiatric watch. I’m still going to check in on your mental health, and it’s easiest for everyone if I do it under the guise of an official psychiatric watch.” Ratchet crossed his arms. “I’ll lessen it further if you complete a therapy module.”

“Therapy?” Starscream scoffed. “Really?”

“Your dismissiveness is telling.” Ratchet walked over to his personal console. “I have a friend—Rung, is his name—and he’s a therapist. He designed a bunch of modules for mechs and femmes to complete on their own, right before Cybertron went to the pit. I’m going to upload one for you, right to your personal pad. What’s your network code?”

“1984. What, do I just watch it like a video-gram?” Starscream asked, watching Ratchet work. “Just put it in a message and send it to me. I’ll get to it.”

“You’re getting it straight to your pad, and I’m telling Optimus I did so.” Starscream’s face fell. “Don’t give me that look. If you want to see less of me, you’ll do it.”

“I guess so.” _There goes my free time_ , he thought.

“Done.” Ratchet logged out of his console and went back to his table. “Now, you can either sit in here with me and help me with this fragging mesh or you can go back to bed. Your choice.”

“Can’t I just sit here, and not do that?”

“You can do that in your own room, on your own time. If you’re in here, you’re either a patient, or you’re helping me.” Ratchet smirked at Starscream. “This is a military base, not a hotel. You didn’t want to sit around in Optimus’s chambers eating candied energon, right? Get to work.”

Starscream grumbled and picked up a piece of mesh. “Give me a few moments. Such an easy task will relax me enough to recharge peacefully,” he said, hoping to get a rise out of the medic. Ratchet just shrugged and sat back down, getting to work on his portion of the task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love competent Starscream in this house. 
> 
> 1984 as Starscream's code is the year G1 came out. Just thought that was a fun little tidbit. 
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20 & 09/28/20: Had to shuffle around the chapters a bit, after posting things wrong. Ugh. Don't work when you're tired, folkx. Just don't do it. The comments are getting shuffled with it and I'm sorry for that, I'm just a simple critter making an honest living. 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	9. Chapter Eight: Tell Me How It's Supposed to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Optimus have a spark to spark, and Optimus gets his aft in gear.
> 
> End of Part One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Content Warnings here! Just fluff, and planning!
> 
> Chapter Title taken from "Dependence" by The Less (https://youtu.be/PsfQ_bljqVU)

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Tell Me How it's Supposed to Be

The base was quiet, for once. As Optimus awoke from recharge he couldn’t hear the beeping of video games or the whirring of machines or even the grunts from training or beeping from the Decepticon monitor. It was just the gentle sounds of his own internal systems booting to full capacity and the soft sounds of Starscream breathing beside him. The seeker was making keening noises in his recharge, wrapping his svelte body around him, his face coming to nuzzle against Optimus’s neck. Optimus manoeuvred an arm out from under his lover and pulled him closer. This had been what he’d wanted since the beginning since he’d first argued with the seeker and then kissed him in the heat of passion. He’d wanted Starscream to himself, in his berth, snuggled next to him. He supposed it was boring and typical, but in a time of conflict and uncertainty, having someone to cuddle was infinitely more grounding than having something to stick your spike in.

Not that he didn’t want that, of course. Starscream and Ratchet were close to restoring his face, which Star had insisted on fixing first, then his wings, and then they’d be moving onto some of the other internal damage. Optimus would wait as long as it took for his partner to want to interface again, but that didn’t mean that his core started to heat when Starscream let out a little moan in his recharge or when he bent over to pick things up.

Optimus heard the tell-tale clicking that meant that Starscream was waking up. He knew from his studies that the clicking was old Vos, Starscream’s first language, but his efforts to become proficient in the language had been difficult. The city was designed by flyers for flyers and had no interest in spreading its culture with the rest of Cybertron. What he did know was that Starscream had never completely removed the language from his sub-processes and if he was tired or in the throes of passion his programming would revert back to old Vos. Starscream’s optics powered on and he looked at Optimus with a wide smile. It was so different than the little smirks that others saw, it was wide and cute and his remaining optic lit up as he saw Optimus. “Good morning, my love,” he said, and then let out a series of clicks that Optimus assumed was a morning greeting. “How was your recharge?”

“Peaceful, because you stayed the whole night,” the Prime joked. Starscream looked away, shame clouding his features. “I am sorry, my spark. I was trying to be funny.”

Starscream seemed to contemplate the words. “I have been staying the whole night, haven’t I? Even through the nightmares.” He smiled a little. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It is wonderful, Star.” Optimus stroked Starscream’s twisted wings. He’d learned from trial and error which sections were sensually sensitive and which were comforting, and now which sections sent agonizing pain through his lover’s body. He’d remembered right and the seeker relaxed into the touch, purring as he let his servos travel. The wings would be so beautiful once they were restored. “It brings me such joy to wake up next to you.”

“Hmm. Me too.” Starscream rested his helm against Optimus’s shoulder. He yawned and started to move his peds to the side of the bed. This was the part of the morning Optimus dreaded. Starscream didn’t like sitting still, perhaps due to his nature as a seeker. As soon as he woke up, and as much as he was able to, Starscream was always on the move. Optimus could never enjoy more than a few moments of morning bliss. Star stood and stretched, wandering over to the wash-racks. He no longer needed Optimus’s help to get there, though he was still walking with a distinct limp. He emerged from the wash-racks a few moments later with a slightly damp cloth. “Seems quiet.”

“It does.” Optimus himself stood, an idea forming in his processor. “Perhaps we can spend some time together before the others wake to demand things of us.”

“Demand things of you,” Starscream corrected. “They don’t like me very much.”

“I would not say that.” Optimus yawned. It was too early to have this argument. He would have to address this, and soon, but not now. “Besides, the children always ask you for things when they arrive at the base. It is the weekend. They will likely be arriving sooner than usual. I imagine Miko will have more Earth films to show you.”

“True, true. Perhaps we can get a few minutes of each other’s company before we’re dragged our separate ways.” Starscream set his cloth down and winked a little seductively at Optimus. “What would you like to do?”

“I have an idea.” Optimus walked to the door, gesturing for Starscream to follow. “Come with me.”

“I have to leave my berthroom?” Starscream whined. “Do I have to?”

“I think you will enjoy this.” Optimus held out his servo for Starscream. Starscream raised a brow ridge, but inched forward and took it. “Come with me.”

Starscream gave him a soft smile. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Optimus had to look away to hide his flush. Starscream grabbed his chin and turned Optimus back towards him, giving him a gentle morning kiss. They stayed together, looking into each other’s optics, for a few moments before exiting Optimus’s quarters.

They walked through the hallways, Starscream’s confusion rising as they took a small hallway with stairs leading up. He kept asking Optimus where they were going and looking around, but he followed regardless. It was cramped with the two of them, forcing both to hunch and curl in on themselves as they ascended. Starscream let out a little whimper of pain as they did. Optimus felt a little guilty, but he felt that a little bit of pain would be worth it once they reached their destination. Finally, they reached a door, Optimus opening it first and squeezing through as best he could. Starscream followed, wincing as he hit his helm on the doorframe. Once he’d freed himself of the cursed thing, the seeker looked around, a wide smile on his face.

“I thought you would want to see the sky since you have been cooped up inside our little base for a couple of quartexes.” Optimus looked over at Starscream, expecting the seeker to be smiling or bouncing on his pedes. Instead, the seeker was staring upward, his mouth open in silent awe, walking to the ledge of the building. Optimus’s spark clenched with fear as he watched, but Starscream stopped before he walked over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the sky from this angle,” the seeker said, his optic staring straight up. “I so rarely look up except to take off. Has the sky here always been like this? These colours?”

Optimus nodded, walking over to join his lover. “Yes. I suppose I am used to seeing the sky like this, being confined to the ground.”

“It’s quite something, isn’t it? When I was on the Nemesis we were too high to fly through this, and I rarely found myself on Earth at daybreak.” Starscream sat, his pedes swinging as he looked up. “I look forward to being able to fly once again. I imagine I’ll appreciate it more, flying through it.”

Optimus sat next to him, putting his servo over Starscream’s. “Soon, my spark. Soon.”

“Ratchet said he’s surprised that I’m healing so well.” Starscream watched a bird dance through the sky in the distance. “He thought I wouldn't be able to walk for a few more cyberweeks, much less move about freely. But I still hurt myself trying to do basic things, like reach for things on a high shelf, or bend too far forward, or fly. Flying is so basic to a seeker, and I can’t fly. It’s maddening.”

“We should not rush the process.” Optimus’s optics found the same bird, watching it dive and weave, following a path only it knew. “I know your strength, even if you do not. Soon, you will be whole once again.”

“If your team doesn’t try to take my helm off before that happens,” Starscream said darkly.

“I do not know where your idea that the team is out to get you comes from.” Optimus shook his helm. “Other than Arcee, it seems that they have treated you well.”

“Yes, because I’m an invalid. Once I’m healed at and back to looking like myself, they’ll go back to hating me.” Starscream seemed to deflate as he talked, his shoulders slumping more and more. “Not saying I don’t deserve it, but it’s what will happen.”

“I have faith in my team.” Optimus tried to grab Starscream’s servo, but he pulled it away. “As I do in you. You have helped us, and they do not act as though they fear you. I...I know you will have to answer to specific actions you have committed that wronged them personally.”

“Cliffjumper,” Starscream whispered.

“Yes. And other such actions. But, I know that if you show them the Starscream I see, the thoughtful, funny, and loving mech who loves learning and flying, they will accept you. You would not be the first Decepticon to reform and be accepted by our cause.”

Starscream was silent for a moment. “I suppose so,” he conceded. “I suppose I’ll have to work on that as I heal.”

“You can do whatever you think will help you. I will not ask a thing of you.”

Starscream laughed. “I know. But you could if you wanted to. When I can, I’ll be able to help more,” Starscream murmured, attempting to draw one knee into his chassis with a wince. He slowly lowered the appendage back down, his optics returning skyward. “I’ll be able to scout for you, maybe do some seeking again.”

“You do not have to...”

“I want to, Optimus.” Starscream turned and looked at him, his optics containing a little bit of resignation. “I can’t sit around and do nothing. I’m not here to simply warm your berth. I have skills, Xal damn it, and you could use them. I want to help the Autobot cause as much as I can. All I ask is that you allow me to do so.”

“You want to join us?’

“I still don’t know, but at least allow me to help those who have helped me. I’ve done so much wrong in my life. I’ve hurt people. I’ve done bad things. If I can just do something, anything _good_...” Starscream smiled sadly. “I can do that much, small as it may be.” He leaned over and gave Optimus a gentle kiss. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” Optimus asked.

“I think that when Ratchet fixes my optics I want them to be a different colour than red.” Starscream tapped the glass of his optic. “I had yellow optics before joining the Decepticons. I may go back to that, but I’m unsure. I feel as though I’m beginning a new phase of my life, perhaps I need a new colour to match.” He watched Optimus expectantly, scanning his face for any reactions.

Optimus shrugged. “Whatever you want, my spark. You should feel free to alter yourself if you should so choose. Your body is yours.”

Starscream scoffed. “You don’t consider it yours as well?”

“Why would I? It belongs to you, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Optimus asked incredulously.

“You’ve penetrated me, and I have penetrated you. Do we not belong to each other?” Starscream asked, a brow-ridge raised.

“I do not consider you mine, no. I consider you my equal, my partner.” Optimus looked at Starscream. “Do you consider me yours?”

“I did, but it seems that I was wrong.” Starscream huffed. Then he frowned. “Or perhaps I am. I’m not sure how the rest of Cybertron does things.”

Optimus stared at Starscream, wordlessly pleading for an explanation. Starscream, seeing this, explained himself. “The Vos rules of courtship are different than Cybertron proper. Once you have penetrated your partner, you belong to them forever. I believe this idea was invented to punish sexually promiscuous young citizens, but most of us believe that this act has to be committed with love to matter. Hence, why we belong to each other, but I do not belong, to...my former leader, no matter what he says.” He finished, looking at Optimus’s face. “I imagine it’s different where you’re from.”

“Much less formal,” Optimus admitted. “There is much I do not know about Vos.”

“That’s by design. We were a very insular people. Despite spending most of my life away from the city, I suppose how I was raised there informs a lot of my beliefs.” Starscream said with a smile. “I apologize.”

“What is there to be sorry for?”

The seeker stilled, his servos clenching, claws scraping the stone of the roof. “When I moved to Kaon, everything was so strange to me. Everyone seemed to do everything differently, and a lot of my peers made me feel like an outsider for not understanding things. Then, I went to a rally to assist me in writing a paper. I met someone there who told me not to feel ashamed or like I was strange because I happened to be different, and that differences were part of what would make Cybertronians the greatest people in the galaxy.” Starscream sighed sadly. “He’d try to teach me how things were done in Kaon, so I could be a sleeper agent, and gain intel from the inside. But now...now I feel like I don’t know anything about the rest of Cybertron. I don’t know if anything he told me was true. I’ve suspected otherwise since he told me that common Cybertronian and Vos courtship was the same.”

“Why would he do that?” Optimus asked, keeping his anger out of his voice. It was just so Megatron to manipulate someone, to twist their processor around and make them think something was true when it wasn’t, and to isolate them so they’d never know the difference. He took a deep inhale. This was just a calm, normal conversation. “It seems...different from his usual way of doing things.”

“I suspect he liked our system better. The whole “belonging” bit. Though that’s just the best translation of the proper word, and not truly what it means.” Starscream glanced over and saw Optimus staring ahead, lost in thought. “I’m sorry. None of this is exciting.”

“No, it is. I am focusing so I can commit it all to memory.”

“You don’t have to be Vossian for me, my love.” Starscream moved closer, tucking himself under Optimus’s arm. “Either way, Cybertron is a dead culture at this point, and Vos deader still. No one practices cultural traditions anymore. We fight and die for a dying race.”

Optimus considered this. Truthfully, it had never occurred to him. He supposed that was part of being a commander for so many cycles. Most of his thoughts were on winning the war, not keeping his culture. Perhaps he supposed that one would follow the other, that if he won the war, he could go back to the way things had always been. “I do not know about that. True, we may have lost much of our population, but we still have our records. And look at you! You were the commander of the Decepticon air division and you still remember the traditions of a culture you’re thousands of cycles removed from. There is hope for us, I believe. I see it in you.”

The metal on Starscream’s face heated. “Thanks,” he said in surprise. “I’ve been thinking of my culture a lot lately. There’s a ceremony...it’s not important. I suppose we’re sharing the same CPU waves. Perhaps we’re spending too much time together.”

Optimus kissed his forehelm. “I did not mean to offend you, earlier. I do see you as my equal. I would not want to cage you by having you belong to me.”

“It’s not a cage.” Starscream tilted his helm to meet Optimus’s lips. “The way we thought about wasn’t that it was confining. It wasn’t about possession. It’s freedom, to be yours. Belonging in my culture means that your partner is your everything, your reason to function, your most important mission. You are all of that to me. You have been since the first time I entered you.”

It was Optimus’s turn to blush. He remembered he had been the first one to penetrate his partner, back when they thought it would be a quick frag, get in and get out, but that he’d asked for Starscream to do the same to him when it became clear they were both interested in a deeper bond. It seemed so long ago now. “And you are that to me, but I see you as my equal. I would not make decisions for you, and I would not want you to do that for me.”

Starscream hummed, deepening the kiss with a servo on the back of Optimus’s helm. “I would not. I’m sorry for being angry earlier. I suppose I’m a bit stunted in the courtship department. I’m relieved to know that I wasn’t lost in translation.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way.” _Now we know what we want from each other. No guesswork,_ he thought. Optimus moved to nip at Starscream’s neck. Perhaps it was cruel, to do this without the ability to interface, but the seeker’s neck was so responsive. It was hard not to latch himself onto it and reduce his partner into a spasming mess. Starscream keened and pressed into him, almost falling off the ledge. “I love you, my spark.”

“And I love you, my --” Starscream said, letting out a couple of chirp-like sounds. _Old Vos again_ , Optimus thought. His spark filled with warmth. It was quite romantic, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. “It means,” Starscream said, as if reading his codes, “the one who shares my spark, who I belong to,” Starscream translated, saying the word again to hammer in the point. He stood and stretched, taking Optimus’s servo and tugging on it to show that he wanted his partner to stand. Optimus took the hint and stood, not wanting Starscream to risk hurting himself by trying to lift his entire weight. When Optimus was standing he started to pull his partner back down the stairs. It was Optimus’s turn to be confused. He’d thought the seeker would want to stay up on the roof, looking at the sky, for much longer. “If we do what I want to do here, we’ll fall,” Starscream explained.

Optimus grinned. “Of course, my love. But I was not sure if you were ready yet.”

“I’m not,” Starscream said truthfully, “but I can prove my love in other ways.” His optics glinted with promise, and Optimus was helpless but to obey as he was dragged back inside to his chambers.

#

Optimus zoomed in on a point on the map he’d spread across to four different monitors. He needed to be absolutely sure of his hunch before he made any decisions, and part of that was making sure he knew every minute detail about the terrain of Nevada. The point he was looking at now was a canyon. After Megatron had raised an army of the dead from one, he was keeping a very close optic on them. However, Echo Canyon (as the humans called it) did not have any strange energy readings emanating from the ancient ground. The state had no strange readings to speak of. Some of energon, but that could wait. Optimus expanded the map to include the entire United States and re-ran the scan. He sighed, leaning forward and bracing himself on the console. He knew he should have asked Starscream. Seeking was his only mission for half his life, after all, but he didn’t want to trouble his partner if he didn’t have to. Starscream fell into recharge the instant his helm hit the berth. It wasn’t worth waking him from a rare peaceful slumber to chase after ghosts.

Quite literally.

Ratchet quietly padded into the room, doing his best not to startle his Prime. Optimus straightened his spinal struts and stood again, looking down at his old friend. Ratchet held out a cube for him. “I noticed you didn’t have any earlier,” he explained, looking past Optimus at the monitors. “Primus. You’re certainly busy.”

“That I am.” Optimus took a drink from his cube. He’d gone too long without fuel again. He’d been so focused on daily tasks that he’d forgotten. For cycles, apparently.

“I was surprised to see you in here alone. You’re rarely away from your shadow for long.” Ratchet teased.

Optimus tried to smile, but he couldn't fake it. Not with Ratchet. It was like the mech had a supernatural ability to force honesty out of people. It made him an excellent medic, but sometimes an irritating friend. “He’s recharging. Peacefully, for once. I didn’t want to bother him.”

“My patient does need his rest.” Ratchet smiled softly. He was developing a bit of a soft spot for the seeker, Optimus could tell. It was sweet. It was good that someone else on the team actually liked their guest. “Are you going to tell me what I’m looking at?”

“A map of the United States of America, and a scanner for different energy frequencies.” Optimus turned back to his work. There were a few frequencies jumping out at him, but they could have easily been nuclear plants as Cybertronian. They seemed to mess with his instruments.

“Not energon, I’m noticing.” Ratchet walked over to the map, looking closely at the signature pings. “Something else.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

Optimus shook his helm. “No, not when I am not sure what I am looking for myself.”

Ratchet smirked. “Now you have to tell me.”

Optimus playfully rolled his optics at his friend, earning an elbow to the side. “Alright, I will attempt to explain. I have been so focused on Starscream, not that he is not worthy of focus, but at the expense of my duties as leader of the Autobots.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that. We stopped Megatron’s attack on the mine, didn’t we?”

“Yes, that is true. But Starscream’s intel, limited as it was, says that Megatron’s plans involve the human race and the legends of Unicron.”

Ratchet’s gaze grew steely. “Does it now? That fragger. He’s going to destroy this planet, as sure as he did our home.”

“That’s why I am following up a hunch, one could say.” Optimus pointed to the different energy signatures on the map. “I do not believe his aim is to control the sources of energon on this planet. He wants to drain them, yes, but that is not his endgame. He has shown more focus on finding dark energon, and he seems bent on wide-scale destruction. Combined with his focus on the past...” Optimus’s optics narrowed. “I believe he is seeking the tools needed to accomplish his sick and twisted goals.”

“The relics of Cybertron?” Ratchet stared at Prime in disbelief. “That’s what you’re looking for?” Optimus nodded. “But no one’s seen those for...cycles! I thought they were destroyed to keep them out of the servos of the Decepticons.”

“That is what Alpha Trion wanted both sides to think. He does not trust either side to use them for the betterment of all sentient beings. But he did not destroy them. He launched them into space.”

“And you think...he might have launched them...here? To this backwater dirtball?”

“I do not know. But there are many things that should not be here that are. The dead of our past, for example. They should not be here. Energon should not be here. Is it too far of a jump to wonder if relics were not sent here too?”

“I suppose not.” Ratchet looked again at the map. “Primus. What are we going to do if they’re here, Optimus? We’re light-years from backup and we have limited resources.”

“We will fight to the last if we have to. We cannot let Megatron take this planet.”

“To the last?” Ratchet raised a brow-ridge. “What about...”

“I believe that Starscream will fight with us, with time.”

“Fair. But what I’m wondering is, are you willing to sacrifice him to keep this planet safe? If it comes to that?”

“It. Will. Not.” Optimus ground out. He would not let it. He would face the well of allsparks first. If Megatron forced him to make that choice, he’d decapitate him without a second thought. “I will protect both. Until all are one.”

“Until all are one.” Ratchet agreed. “So, what do we do next?”

“I will finish this scan. Then, we are going to get two steps ahead of our foes.” Optimus slowly turned his helm, smiling what he was sure was a delirious smile at his friend. “And we are going to end this war.”

“That’s my Prime.” Ratchet gave him the same look back. “When do we start?”

“Yesterday,” Optimus said, with new conviction in his voice.

**END OF PART ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet. ;)
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20: It's a bit different from the original chapter nine, but a bunch of things got moved around when I rewrote it. Bear with me, it's all coming together.
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	10. Chapter Nine: Restless Chemicals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Bulkhead discover a pattern to the energon deposits on Earth, and an insidious truth. Optimus tries to ask Starscream on a date, and Starscream attempts to avoid angering Agent Fowler. Unsuccessfully.
> 
> Beginning of Part Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Abuse, trauma, implied sexual violence
> 
> Chapter Title taken from "Flawed Design" by Stabilo (https://youtu.be/-SHNE8vaLEY)

CHAPTER NINE:

Restless Chemicals

**BEGIN PART TWO**

Starscream’s claw clicked against the screen. “There. That is where I remember seeing the rock formation.”

Bulkhead leaned forward, evaluating the map for himself. “I must have driven past that thing a thousand times. How’d I miss it?”

“You were driving.” Starscream crossed his arms. He surveyed the screen again, double-checking his assertion. No, his memory was perfect. It had to be when he was alone in the woods. If he made a wrong turn, read his GPS wrong, he’d be walking until he figured out the right way to go. “I saw it when I was walking, unable to transform and fly to my destination. Trust me, if I had been able to fly I would have missed it too.”

“Fair enough.” Bulkhead pulled the map back, entering in a code to map the locations he and Starscream had discerned. Really, Optimus should have asked him first when he’d announced that the team was to track anything Cybertronian, whether it be energon, disturbances caused by ancient crafts landing on Earth, or any other strange energy sources. If there was energon here, the Prime reasoned, there could be other things that didn’t belong, and they needed to find them before the Decepticons did. He’d overheard Bulkhead mention something about how he was tracking geological disturbances, in the hopes that one would lead to a relic. Starscream had asked about weird rocks and Bulkhead dragged him off to the monitor room to show him where he saw “weird rocks”. So far they’d identified three possible relic locations. Bulkhead almost bounced with joy as they surveyed the screen.

“I’m surprised that you’re interested in this sort of thing. I wasn’t aware that Wreckers were so cartographically inclined.”

“You saying I’m a big dumb lug?” Bulkhead asked defensively. Starscream was getting well used to this. If he said anything one of the Autobots had the slightest issue with they would react like he’d dumped a cube over their helms. He wondered if Optimus had given his team the same talk he got. He wasn’t going to mince his words, though. If the other mechs were offended, that was their business. He refused to tiptoe around anyone, not anymore. If Optimus wanted him to be himself, the rest of the team would just have to deal with it.

“I’m saying that I knew a wrecker quite well, and he couldn't use a map to find his own aft.”

Bulkhead chuckled. “Well, Breakdown was always the muscle. Jackie was the CPU of the operation. Said we couldn't be reckless if we weren’t smart too. He taught me about maps, and planning, and strategy. All that stuff.”

“A most useful education,” Starscream said with a grin.

“Yeah, but if he was here, he’d have named twice the locations.” Bulkhead leaned over the console, groaning. “These relics are a real pain in my aft, I tell ya. I wish I’d gotten assigned to track the energy disturbances, but Arcee won’t switch with me. Alpha Trion couldn’t leave us any clues, oh no. He just launched the most valuable things Cybertron without a care in the world. We have to remember weird rocks.”

“I can see why he wouldn’t. We have Decepticons who could get those clues as easily as running a diagnostic scan.”

“Like you?”

“You flatter me, truly. You all seem to think I’m much sneakier than I am.” Starscream watched Bulkhead’s s widen in panic, suddenly very concerned that he’d offended his leader’s lover. He wondered if they’d just never had the sarcasm circuit installed since they could never tell when he was teasing them and when he was serious. Starscream hoped his laughter would set him at ease, but he supposed half of his laughter sounded sinister. “No,” he said, moving away from the joking, “like Soundwave. He’s a telepath.”

“Right.” Bulkhead shivered. “That creeps me right out.”

“It really is quite unnerving. I share your frustration, though. We have no idea which relics Megatron wants. We just know that he wants them, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get them. He wants to tear down an empire that no longer exists through taking their tools, I’d assume. It’s unfortunate that we have to go on this wild turbo fox chase due to his madness.” _Oh, for the allsparks sake, I’m calling the team ‘we’ now. Optimus will be thrilled_.

Bulkhead nodded. “I don’t know what his plan is, but my gut tells me it involves using these relics on humans.”

“Your gut will most likely be proven correct.” Starscream agreed. “He has no love for those little...creatures. I have no doubt that he’ll exploit them and then kill them. It’s what he does best.” Starscream’s mood instantly darkened. He glowered at the screen like it was Megatron, grinding his denta together.

Bulkhead ignored his shift in mood. “Energon, dark energon, and relics. If this planet ain’t little Cybertron...” Bulkhead shook his helm and sighed. “They don’t deserve none of this.”

Starscream tried to shake off the bad mood. It was making the big hole in his leg hurt. It wouldn’t help them find the relics, and it wouldn’t help him heal. “Some of the cities even resemble ours. There’s one that reminds me a lot of Tyger Pax, near here...is it Lost Vego? No, that’s not it.”

“Las Vegas?” Bulkhead offered.

“Yes, that one!” Starscream grinned as he remembered going to Tyger Pax with his trine. Skywarp lost half his credits in one machine, and TC drunkenly flew into their hotel. “It’s funny how similar our peoples are. It seems both Cybertronians and humans enjoy intoxication and gambling.”

“Something tells me that all sentient races enjoy that.” Bulkhead’s smile dropped as he walked a few paces away from the screen. “There’s so much stuff buried underneath all this dirt, and we’re running around in circles. We can’t fail them.”

 _The humans,_ he realized. _Those poor innocent fools_ _._ He pondered to himself for a moment or two. “What if we tracked the energon deposits as well?”

“What do you mean?”

“There could be a pattern. Do you know much about energon?” Starscream asked. Bulkhead shook his helm. He’d figured as much. “All you need to know is that it naturally occurs in either clusters or in lines. If you find one, you can find more. My squadron and I mainly dealt with clusters, but if we track every spot where it’s been found, we can determine which deposit type is most common here. We might be able to predict where Megatron will strike next...”

“If we can track where the energon is.” Bulkhead excitedly typed coordinates into the computer. “That’s easy enough, our scanners already pick it up pretty good. Damn. This is why I should have gone to university. I could have been learning this slag earlier.” He fist-pumped once the coordinates were in and a distinct, clear line emerged. “Looks like you’re right, Star,” he said, pointing at the screen, “I see a pattern.”

Starscream walked over to the screen and looked. “It resembles a fuel line, doesn’t it? Like one of Primus’s veins.” A thin blue line snaked across the ground, little branches like capillaries jutting off but never trailing too far from the fuel line proper. Starscream found himself wondering if it would lead to something like a spark.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Bulkhead agreed. “Uh-oh.” he looked a bit closer at the line. “Few of those are getting close to the city. That one is next to a power plant. And if we extrapolate the pattern, we’re going to have to evacuate because it’s going to start going into population centres. Primus, if this pattern is right, there’s one right under a mall.”

“What the pit is a mall?”

“Miko says it’s like a market, but it’s inside and there’s food there.”

“How do humans move around, then? Won’t they run into each other? Isn’t it crowded?”

“Maybe we should ask. It’s not like we can go.”

“True.” Starscream took his turn typing, entering in a formula he half-remembered. “Perhaps that is part of his plan. It’s easier to make the humans useful when there’s a group of them. Alone they’re quite weak.”

“Don’t let the kids hear you say that,” Bulkhead chuckled, “they’ll never let you forget it.”

“Never forget what?” Raf’s voice rang out. Both Cybertronians turned towards the source of the sound. The door was wide open and the human children had wandered in, looking up at them expectantly. Miko ran ahead and gave Bulkhead’s leg a hug, the two boys following at a more relaxed pace. “Seriously though. Forget what?” Raf asked, adjusting his glasses as he smiled up at the two mechs.

“Nothing important. We’re just joking around.” Starscream said, just managing to keep his voice even.

“A likely story.” Raf raised an eyebrow.

“Bulk, did you forget AGAIN?” Miko asked, tapping her foot at her green friend. It was extremely amusing to watch the tough as nails wrecker cowering before a tiny human child. “You did, didn’t you!”

“Sorry, Miko. We’ve been tracking relics and deposits, we got a little busy.”

“But you promised last week that you’d listen to me practice!” She pleaded, dramatically flopping forward.

“But the mission...” Bulkhead looked from the screen to the girl, and back, and again. If he was trying to convince her by showing her the data they’d gathered, he’d have to be more specific.

“While you’re here,” Starscream interrupted, “I have a question about a human thing.”

Miko perked right up. “What do you want to know? What we do for fun, how are we so awesome, why...”

“What’s a mall?”

Miko paused. “It’s a bunch of stores in one building. And then there’s a place to eat.”

“Some malls are really big,” Raf added, “and they have attractions like water parks or mini-golf.”

Starscream wasn’t sure what either of those things were. “So you go to this place, that’s indoors, and buy things at different stores?”

“Yeah!” Miko replied excitedly.

“How do you humans not run into each other? It must be really cramped in there since it’s so enclosed.”

“We just look where we’re going?” Jack answered, shrugging. “They’re built pretty big, there’s lots of space.”

“Fascinating.” Starscream rubbed his chin. “Perhaps when Cybertron is restored, we should consider building such a place.”

“I don’t know, seems a little inefficient.” Bulkhead pondered. “We’d need a lot of space.”

“That being said, would you say that having an energon deposit under one of these would be a...bad thing?”

“Duh.” Jack rolled his eyes. “They’re always busy. There's always lots of people there, even on slow nights, and there's alarms in every store at night. Most have security guards too. Anyone trying to get the energon would either have to risk hurting people or do it at night and risk getting the cops called on them.”

“Oh good,” Starscream looked at the screen, his panic rising, motors whirring faster, “so it’s very bad, then.”

“Is there an energon deposit under the mall?” Miko asked. “Which one?”

“Let’s just say,” Bulkhead interrupted, “that you should do your shopping online for the next little while.”

“You’ll stop the Decepticons from getting to the deposit though, right Bulk?” Miko asked, looking up at Bulkhead with wide, frightened eyes.

“Of course, kids.” Bulkhead reached down with a massive servo and mimed patting all of them. “That’s what we’re here for. Right, Starscream?” Bulkhead looked at Starscream with pleading optics. He was being vague, and overly positive, and was now practically begging Starscream to continue reassuring the kids. If he hadn’t received the look, it would have been hard to tell, but Bulkhead was clearly lying. _Why?_ Starscream wondered. _Oh well, I’ll play along. I’m...intrigued._

“I’m here because I have to be to be with Optimus,” he snapped, before looking at the disappointed children. “And because I care about humans too much to let Megatron step on them.”

“There you go, kids. Nothing to worry about.”

“Will you come listen to me practice?” Miko asked again. “Starscream can come too if he wants.”

“I’ll be there. We’re just going to finish something up.”

“I’d love to, but I promised Optimus I’d see him after this.”

“That’s okay! I got a new amp so you’ll be able to hear me all over the base.” Miko skipped off, dragging Jack and Raf behind her. “See you later!”

As soon as the kids were out of earshot, Starscream turned his calculating gaze onto Bulkhead. “So you lied to the children. I’m almost impressed, really. Tell me why you roped me into this little falsehood. Surely the truth is that you can stop Megatron?” His tone feigned goodwill, but it was calculating and controlled. Truthfully, he was most interested in why the Autobots used deception, and how it differed from what he was used to. The old leadership psychology student in him was returning.

Bulkhead let out a deep intake. “I don’t actually know if we can save everyone. If these energon projections are correct, a lot of people could be hurt. We’re supposed to stay hidden, and if Megatron attacked during the day? We’d have to reveal ourselves. We have a lot to lose. I don’t want them to lose faith in us. Is that selfish?”

“Who am I to judge?” Starscream shrugged. “I used to lie for all kinds of reasons. Wanting your friends to believe in you is really the least. The only problem with that lie is how much it’ll let them down if it’s revealed.”

“I know.” Bulkhead groaned. “What should we do?”

“The line is going into a human settlement. Why don’t we get their authorities involved? It wound up working well last time. I don’t see why it wouldn’t again.”

“That’s...a really good idea. We should mention it to Optimus. He’s kind of our ambassador.”

“You have an appointment to keep, as do I. I’ll speak to him about it. You go listen to Miko practice...something. I never did ask what.”

“Guitar.” Bulkhead smiled with pride. “She’s pretty good if you like death metal.”

“I’ve no idea what that is, so I suppose I’ll see.”

“Oh,” Bulkhead laughed. “You will.”

Optimus waited patiently for the data file on his pad to translate. He hadn’t been able to find any sources on Vos in common Cybertronian aside from basic information about the location of the city-state and population data. That was all well and good, but it offered him no information about the culture of the mechs who lived there. He could ask Starscream, he supposed, but he didn’t want to force his love to have to explain his entire culture. Especially the..specialized knowledge he was after. If there were other sources, he’d use them. If the stupid file would ever translate.

The device pinged. Optimus picked it up and read it over. “Courtship Customs of Vos” was on the screen in full colour, featuring images of happy flying builds holding servos, sitting on benches, and walking together. “A guide for sparklings” scrolled across the bottom. Optimus groaned a little, but he knew he had to start with the basics. He tapped the screen, turning the page. He was greeted with a picture of two mechs holding servos and looking out at the moon-rise together, listing the names of the authors. Optimus went past the table of contents to the first chapter: courtship and the young Vosian.

They mentioned the ‘belonging’ language that Starscream had told him, but wanted to detail the “steps” that should lead up to such a thing. It seemed like there were many, some of which would be impossible in their current location (and for a non-flyer). He couldn't exactly fly servo-in-servo with Starscream over the place of their first meeting, nor could they make a pilgrimage to a park built by a founder of Vos for his conjux endura. However, he could offer Starscream fine high-grade, or show him his favourite place, or do...some sort of dance. That one might need practice, but he could take him to his favourite place on the planet. It was much like the human courtship rituals in a way, if television was to be believed.

Optimus hid the datapad under his bed when he heard the beeping of the door code being entered. Starscream entered, looking at Optimus with a raised brow-ridge. “I was looking for you. I wish you would have told me where you’d be when you asked me to join you after I finished with Bulkhead.”

“I decided to have some quiet time in our quarters.” Optimus shuffled towards the head of the berth, leaving room for Starscream to sit next to him. Starscream sat with only a small grunt of pain. “It’s such a rare occasion these days. I’m sure, as a commander, you know the burdens of leadership.”

“Xal yes,” Starscream leaned back on the berth, kicking his pede out in front of him. “I can’t count how many times I’d be at the most interesting point in my book and an idiotic vehicon would bang on my door because an Autobot was going for a stroll a kilometre below.” He rolled his lone optic. “Your team may interrupt my brooding, but at least they’re not absolute morons.”

Optimus put an arm around Starscream, pulling him closer. He hoped that Starscream didn’t notice the shaking in his arms. He’d never asked another mech on a “date” before. Did he just ask? Did he wait for the right time? In his experience, patience always paid off. He ran his thumb down Starscream’s arm, stroking the smooth plating beneath his derma. “Did you and Bulkhead find anything? He dragged you off quite suddenly.”

“Did we ever. We identified some possible relic locations and extrapolated a possible pattern in the energon deposits. It’s...it looks like some are going into human population centres. Like malls.”

That sent all thought of romance from Optimus’s helm. “We’ll have to alert the human government right away. I would ere on the side of caution and evacuate these centres, the human authorities will know what works best for their people.” Optimus shook his helm. “This is not good. If Megatron discovers this...”

“I think he already has.” Starscream looked at his servos, anywhere but Optimus. “He knew about the deposit in the mine before you did. Someone, and I’m going to guess Soundwave, because no one else is smart enough, must have noticed the pattern first. If not...we can only hope they take their time figuring it out.” He let out a low, rumbling exhale. “My dear leader didn’t appreciate my talents as a literal energon seeker, it seems.” Starscream chuckled darkly.

Optimus pressed a kiss to Starscream’s helm. “I have the utmost faith in your abilities. Though you did not use all of your vast seeking skills to arrive at this conclusion, you used your intelligence. I doubt we would have found this information otherwise.”

Starscream huffed. “Stop flattering me. You’ve already got me in your berth.” Optimus’s face-plates heated. Starscream smirked, running his claws down the side of Optimus’s face. “If only I didn’t need extensive repairs still. Think of how much more entertaining our ‘quiet’ time will be.”

“Behave, Star. We still have a while to go before that occurs.” Optimus patted Starscream’s thigh. Perhaps now was the right time. “I...”

“I’m ever so bad at listening to orders, though,” Starscream purred, interrupting him, flipping over and laying on his front between Optimus’s legs, resting his chin halfway up his torso. “I’m sure if we’re careful, we can do something pleasurable...” He crawled forward, kissing Optimus’s neck. “Like nipping at these cables here...”

“Starscream,” Optimus panted, trying to push his enthusiastic lover away, “I have something I need to ask you...”

Starscream’s wandering servos stilled. Before Optimus could ask, Star blurted, “What the frag is that sound?”

Optimus tuned his audials, then broke into a smile. “That would be Miko practicing.”

“Practicing what? Audio torture?” Starscream clamped his servos over his audials. “Make it stop!”

“I believe it is meant to be music.”

“This is what passes for art on this planet?” Starscream squawked. “Megatron can have Earth. Its people are already doomed.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being assaulted!”

Optimus sighed, petting Starscream’s helm. Romance would have to wait. “Shall we go save Bulkhead and the others? In light of this new information, perhaps we should plan our next moves.”

“If it stops this “music”, I’ll do whatever you say.” Starscream hopped off the berth and gave his weary frame a shake. “How do you tolerate this?”

“I suppose I tolerate a lot,” Optimus gave Starscream a pointed look, “from those I care about.”

Starscream huffed and crossed his arms.

“We will have to inform Fowler,” Optimus said, already dreading the conversation. Yes, Fowler was pleased with how Starscream’s plan turned out, but Optimus could do without the thinly veiled disparaging remarks.

“You will inform him. He won’t want to hear from me.”

“Which is precisely why he will.”

Starscream blinked. “I’m sorry, what?! I’m doing my best to play nice with the team, isn’t that good enough?”

“Are you afraid of Fowler?” Optimus asked.

“No, I’m...I’m embarrassed, of how I acted towards him in the past.” Starscream looked away. “I treated him like I would any Autobot I captured, but I suppose that wasn’t very appropriate.”

“Starscream,” Optimus grabbed his lover’s chin and tilted it up, “if you want to take responsibility and accountability for your past actions, you will speak with Fowler. You cannot just hide in your room and refuse to...”

“Fine!” Starscream snapped. “I’ll speak to the Fowler. Happy!?”

“I will be happy,” Optimus ground out, “when you start listening to me more.”

Starscream huffed. “I am doing my best. Can’t I have...” Starscream winced. “I’m sorry, I can’t have this conversation while...that,” he pointed to the door, which was barely keeping out the wailing of Miko’s...music, “is happening.”

“We will discuss this later.” Optimus glared at Starscream, who responded by sticking out his glossa. “But yes, I agree. Shall we...drown it out?”

“Xal, yes.” Starscream purred. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Later” was apparently three groons following their conversation. The “living room” had never felt so small, despite Optimus, Starscream and Agent Fowler being the only three living beings in it. Starscream was sure Arcee would have loved to be present to witness Starscream’s discomfort. Agent Fowler stared at Starscream with eyes edged with fear and mistrust, crossing his arms and glaring up at the large, dangerous robot. Starscream tried to face the human agent with the side of his face still wrapped in bandages and didn’t bother hiding the little shivers and twitches of pain that escaped him when he moved. His display of vulnerability didn’t seem to sway the man, who looked from him to Optimus as they spoke. “And you believe this energone,”

“Energon,” Starscream corrected.

Fowler glared at him. “This Cybertronian fuel source,” he continued, “appears in a pattern on Earth, suggesting some sort of intentional seeding?”

“You’re suggesting that,” Starscream retorted. “Bulkhead and I simply noticed a pattern. What you interpret that pattern as is your own discretion.” Fowler started to visibly grind his teeth. Starscream drummed his digits on the table, shaking the flat metal plane and unbalancing the agent perched atop it. Fowler glared at Starscream, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“Starscream,” Optimus said softly, “maybe I should do the bulk of the speaking.”

Starscream huffed. “Fine.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing.

“Agent Fowler,” Optimus addressed the agent directly, “we have reason to believe that Megatron is aware of these locations, and may conduct antagonistic attacks against the human race to gain access to these sites.”

“Reason to believe, huh.” Agent Fowler’s disdain was evident, even from the distance between Starscream’s functioning optic and the table. “You sure having him in the room for this is wise, Prime? He may be the main source of your intel, but how do you know that he’s not feeding his boss everything we’re talking about?”

“Megatron is not my "boss". He's a monster and he almost killed me. I want him dead,” Starscream’s claws clenched.

“I trust Starscream, Agent. He has been working on proving himself to the team, and to himself. Meeting with you is part of this work. He has no reason to report to Megatron, as Megatron believes that he is deceased.” Prime tried to reassure Starscream with a smile. Starscream refused to change his sour expression. “That does not change the fact that...”

“I’ve heard rumours that you’re in a romantic relationship with the ‘con. Are you sure that’s not clouding your judgment?”

“You may insult my virtue, worm, but do not speak to Optimus that way,” Starscream growled, a low rumble in his throat. To Fowler’s credit, he didn’t flinch, despite looking away. “He is trying to help you protect your own. Your personal feelings for me aside, you would do well to listen to what he has to say.”

“Personal feelings? You held me captive and tortured me.”

“Do you want an apology?” Starscream asked. Fowler was silent. “You’re getting one. I am sorry for my actions towards you. I understand that they were traumatizing and cruel. I know I can’t take them back, but you have my word as a son of Vos that it will not happen again.”

“I don’t even know where or what that is.”

“It was the most beautiful city on the entire planet of Cybertron. If it makes you feel better, I treated you like Decepticons would treat any Autobot or enemy Cybertronian. I saw you as an equal.”

“So all of you are depraved and evil. Good to know.”

Starscream laughed. “From what I’ve seen, your government utilizes the same techniques. I won’t be lectured by a CIA agent. Tell me, just how well did MK Ultra work out for you?”

“Star. Fowler.” Optimus’s voice took the dark quality it did when he spoke of Megatron. Fowler and Starscream looked to the floor. “Personal feelings must be pushed aside. This argument does not help us protect the people of this planet.”

“Sorry,” Starscream muttered.

Fowler ran a hand through his greying hair. “So we don’t know when Megatron is going to attack these targets, but we know he’s going to. Am I hearing you correctly?”

“Yes,” Optimus nodded. “I understand that this must make any defensive actions difficult, but that is all we know.”

“I would say to evacuate, but I’m not in charge. I’m going to have to take this to my superiors.” Fowler groaned. “Oh, this is going to be a headache. Half the people I need on board with this don’t know about your existence, and I have to fill out the paperwork to tell them and convince the other half of the people I need onboard to sign it. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’ll do my best. Can I trust that you’ll defend these places if an attack occurs in the meantime?”

“Of course,” Optimus answered. Star rolled his optic. Fowler noticed, meeting the optic directly, but said nothing.

“I’m going to go to Washington right away and get this started. God, this planet was complicated enough without aliens, and now it’s a constant shit-show.”

“And you have a front-row ticket. Lucky you.” Starscream smirked.

Fowler gave Optimus a little head nod. “I’ll be in contact as soon as I can, Prime. Be seeing you, ‘con.” He climbed down the table and left the room, hopping into a car and driving out through the human-made garage door.

“That went well,” Starscream said cheerily as Fowler left.

Optimus sighed. “As well as can be expected, given your...history. Though you acted very snarkily towards him.”

“That’s how I talk to everyone.” _But you_.

“Has the team responded well to that?” Optimus asked.

Starscream rolled his optic. “You told me to be myself, didn’t you? That’s me.”

“I am not sure about that.”

Starscream ignored him, looking at the door Fowler had exited. The agent hadn’t shut it behind him, and it was rattling in the night wind. He walked over to the human-sized opening and shut it with his pede. “We can’t sit around and wait for them to help us. I hope you know that.”

“What do you mean?”

Starscream looked over his shoulder. Optimus’s helm was tilted, watching Starscream curiously. Starscream turned back around, facing away from Optimus. “Your human allies. You heard the Fowler. He stated that he had to convince his superiors that there is a real and present danger to their people. While he’s convincing, the Decepticons will strike.”

“Do you have knowledge of another attack?” Optimus’s tone darkened.

“No!” Starscream whipped around. “If I did, you would know. What I do have knowledge of is Meg—the way their leader operates.” Starscream could just picture Megatron in his processor, dozens of human bodies at his pedes as he cackled. “He won’t wait. You shouldn’t either.”

“I understand your logic, Starscream, but we have to operate with a certain level of discrepancy...”

“So you, the powerful Optimus Prime, the scourge of the Decepticons, the hope of the universe, etc., are lead by humans? Really? You’re going to let them tell you how to fight your enemies? Perhaps they should come to Omega Outpost One, and explain all the things we’re doing wrong.”

Optimus, thankfully, was not like his team and understood exactly when Starscream was being sarcastic. Unfortunately for Starscream, he also understood where the truth lay in his sarcastic ramblings. “In some ways, yes, I am. This is their planet. We are just guests. But I will not let them dictate my solar-cycle to solar-cycle operations. Even I am not that willing to offer concessions.”

Starscream smirked. This was why Optimus was his favourite. “Since they’re so knowledgable, perhaps we should leave them to their own devices, then, and just worry about stopping the Decepticons.”

“Very funny, Star, but I think the time for joking has passed...”

“Who said anything about joking? The humans know about the threat, we know about the Decepticons, and we can move forward without them.” Starscream perched on a table. The action hurt, but not as much as standing. His new muscle fibres were taking some time to get used to his frame. “I have some ideas as to what our next move should be...”

“No, Starscream.” Optimus glared his partner down. “I will not even entertain that notion. We work with the people of this planet, not against them.”

“We’re not working against them. We’re working adjacent to them. They can’t stop Megatron. We can. End of story.”

“No.” Optimus slammed his fist down on the table. Starscream jumped. Optimus had the decency to look embarrassed, but his gaze was still steely and resolute. “I am the leader of this team. I have made it clear what my plan is. Since you will not join us...I value your opinion and experience, but I, as an Autobot, will lead my team. Not you.”

Starscream blinked in shock for a second, before his face-plate twisted into an angry snarl. “Tell me how you really feel, Prime.” He growled. “Why would I want to be on a team that refuses to do their duties? You want to protect these...fleshlings, but you’re too scared to get your servos dirty.” Starscream felt tears start to spill down his face-plate. On the outside, he was the perfect picture of righteous anger. Inside, his spark felt like it had been hit hard enough to crack. He’d known these arguments were coming. How could he not? He’d never expected Optimus to use his reluctance to join the faction he’d hated for so long against him. He’d thought the Prime was better than that. He’d thought he loved him more than that. “Just what do you hope to accomplish with this pointless moralizing? What do you think will happen while you wait around for others to do what’s right? Newsflash, Prime. If you wait around for others to act, they will disappoint you.” Starscream glared up at Optimus, using their height difference for intimidation, for a change.

Optimus didn’t get angry back. That was a bit of a relief, but he wasn’t sure what to make of the facial expression Optimus had instead of the expected. His face-plate was blank, his optics were wide, and his mouth was tight. “What?!” Starscream snapped, feeling his servos tense and clench.

“I have heard those exact words before,” Optimus said, his voice shaking. “From a speech. By a former friend.”

Starscream felt all the anger leave him. The fight, the rage, the frustration, seemed to come out of him with a deep exhale. He started to shake. He started to walk backwards, away from Optimus. He wanted to run, he wanted to transform and fly off into the Nevada night, or maybe lock himself in a closet and stay in there until he ran out of fuel...he too knew that speech. He’d been there when it was delivered. It was the second such speech he’d ever attended. Megatron had looked for him in the crowd and locked optics with him as he spoke about doing the right thing. At the time, Starscream was convinced that joining the newly formed Decepticons was the right thing. He was being deceived.

In more ways than one.

He felt his processor start to fry. He could feel code fritzing around his helm, panic surging through him. He’d become him. He’d become everything he hated. Oh, Xal, he’d thought he’d escaped it, but he couldn't, it had followed him, it was in him, it was him, he was just as bad, just as evil...

Optimus reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The seeker jumped and looked up at him. “It is alright, Starscream.” Optimus’s servo left his shoulder to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “I was influenced by that speech myself.”

“You didn’t use it to justify your actions.”

Optimus gave him a sad smile. “And if I had? He had a way with words. They stay with you. Whether you want them to or not.”

Starscream sniffled. “It was so easy to drop back into it. The words came to me like they were mine. He’s...”

“A virus.” Optimus pulled Starscream into a hug. “I do not blame you for speaking like that. It was all you knew for a very long time. It is not your fault that those sentiments, valid and just on their surface, were used to excuse and perpetrate evil.”

“But I...”

“I was too harsh when I disagreed with you.” Optimus murmured, kissing the top of Starscream’s helm. “I welcome your suggestions. Perhaps we should have options, in case the humans do not act quickly enough or refuse to save their own people.”

Starscream took a deep intake. His spark still hurt. He took a step back from his lover, refusing to look up at him. “I can...I can tell you what I was thinking.” Optimus reached out, holding out his servo, waiting for Starscream to take it. Starscream stared at it. He wasn’t sure why Optimus would even want to touch him at all, after their fight. He wasn’t used to it. But he still took his servo, letting Optimus rub his knuckle-joints and squeeze his digits. “I became another Megatron, didn’t I?” He said quietly.

Just saying his leader’s name made him want to regurgitate. Optimus, however, only squeezed his servo harder. “You became cruel, true, but I doubt you delight in suffering the same way Megatron does. I think you delight in victory, but not in pointless cruelty.” Optimus smiled at him. Starscream considered this. That was true. He did like to win. Sometimes he would do terrible things to win, but all he really wanted was to come out on top. “Perhaps spending time with the Autobots will help you see another way.”

“Maybe.” Starscream glanced at the screen. Optimus had loaded the maps he’d created with Bulkhead, which had since been updated with the human population around the locations. He winced. There was a lot. Even in these small centres, there were a lot of the creatures running around at any given time. “Assuming they don’t help you...”

“They will,” Optimus tried to reassure him.

“You think they will, but they have their own interests, and their own priorities.” Starscream leaned forward. “I’ve been consuming their media, you know. I’ve seen how they treat their own.”

“Then you see you they will treat us if we do not stay hidden, and don’t work within the co-operation of their government.” Optimus’s optics hardened. “I will not let my soldiers be turned into lab rats.”

“So, assuming they don’t help, which they probably won’t...” Optimus openly glared. “What? I think we should be prepared. Quit looking at me like that. You know I’m right.”

“You are not. You are merely speculating.”

“What would you do, if they don’t help us? I want to know what you think.”

“If they do not help us...I have two of the best scouts in the Autobot army. I can use them to tamper with something to force the humans to evacuate. Ratchet has been looking into holograms, to be able to more convincingly blend in with the humans. We might be able to use those and stay in vehicle mode.”

“I could bomb them from the air,” Starscream suggested.

“No. They know that we do not have any flyers, and they would know if any new soldiers entered the atmosphere. We cannot take that risk. I will not risk losing you. Not when you are healing so well.” Optimus crossed the room and wrapped his seeker in an embrace. “You may not be my soldier, but I will protect you. No matter what.”

Starscream blushed and looked away. “But that is not a valid strategy.”

“I suppose not. But...” Optimus looked at Starscream. “I know you have done stealth missions before. One of them cost me an entire armoured transport.”

“That was alleged. I do not claim credit.” Starscream huffed.

“Skywarp did.”

“And loudly too.” Starscream laughed to himself, remembering how much slag the entire trine had got into...and how much high-grade they’d drunk in celebration of Skywarp’s first big win in battle. “But...yes, I can figure out how to make a bright yellow mech disappear into the night. But I think we should be more aggressive than just stealth missions. We need to control the energon deposits if nothing else. We need to get there first, kill as many vehicons as we can, force Megatron into making desperate moves, and force him off balance.”

“Is that not dangerous?”

“This is war, Optimus. Everything we do is dangerous, or it’s not worth doing!”

Optimus’s face went blank. For a moment, Starscream was sure he’d repeated more of Megatron’s toxic garbage. Then, Optimus smiled at him. “That sounds more like the Starscream I know.”

Starscream’s face fell. “Am I really so violent?”

“I would call it dedicated, myself.”

Starscream sighed. “I wouldn’t.” He started to walk towards the door.

“Starscream....” Optimus reached for him.

Starscream held up his servo, warning him off. “I want to be alone, Optimus. I’ll see you...later.”

Optimus’s lip quivered for a split second. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright, my spark. I will see you...later.”

Starscream left the room in silence, ignoring Optimus staring after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some cues for Wheeljack's intelligence from the G1 cartoon and from the IDW comics. He was always an inventor and a scientist, so I figured if he were a wrecker he'd be the designated voice of reason, haha, and wind up trying to impart some of his wisdom onto his team.
> 
> Fowler is one of the people Starscream has to answer to, and just like Arcee, he will. Once he can get over his crippling case of sarcasm.
> 
> Robo-chickens are canon. I'm not joking. It's like they're not even trying.
> 
> I really do love death metal. I've loved it since I was an angsty eleven year old. I'm just clowning around. Honk.
> 
> I know I do this in every chapter, but thank you all SO MUCH for your warmth and kindness and lovely comments. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	11. Chapter Ten: Regret from a Thousand Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes a startling discovery, Starscream has a nightmare, and Optimus finally asks Starscream out on a proper date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Nightmares about past abuse
> 
> Chapter Title taken from "What I've Done" by Linkin Park (yes, for the second time shut up): (https://youtu.be/8sgycukafqQ)

CHAPTER TEN:

Regret from a Thousand Lies

Static crackled over the comm. Optimus leaned forward over the console. Raf sat on the edge, headphones in his ears. The other kids were with Bulkhead in the corner as he waited, trying to see if anyone would need “All clear, Prime.”Arcee reported. “There’s the remains of an ancient ship here, but no sign of any relics. Should I see if there’s any useful parts to salvage from this scrap heap?” To make her point, Arcee banged on the side of the hull. Ratchet winced from the loud clanging over the comms.

The door opened. Starscream walked in, stretching the long lines of his body. Optimus was happy to see that his walk was getting less pained and more elegant, just as it used to be. Starscream didn’t quite meet his optics when he walked in. They’d slept in the same room, but other than that they’d had very little contact. Optimus wished desperately that he knew how to make this right. Bulkhead gave Star a nod as he came to observe the monitor. Optimus was relieved to see that at least one member of his team didn’t tense every time the seeker entered a room. Miko gave Starscream an excited wave and Jack just gave him a small two-finger salute. “Good morning, all,” Starscream said cheerily. His expression changed when he looked at Ratchet’s face. “I see it isn’t as good a morning as I’d hoped.”

“No, unfortunately.” Ratchet sighed. “We were hoping we’d find...anything, really. Looks like this mission was a dead-end.”

“Maybe not.” Starscream tapped his chin. “Has Arcee looked at the walls? There might be something on there that tells you who the thing belonged to. If it’s from the Hall of Records, wouldn’t it have Alpha Trion’s signature on it or something? Maybe even some old writing?”

“Are there any sacred symbols on the walls?” Optimus asked.

A pause. “Does a shipping manifesto count? I think this was a cargo ship.” They heard a creaking sound. “Yep. There’s some parts in here. Out of date too. Must have crashed a long time ago.”

“See what you can find, and let us know when to bridge you home.” Optimus switched to Bumblebee’s comm. “Bumblebee, this is Optimus. Raf is here. Tell me what’s happening.”

Bumblebee didn’t respond right away, the sounds of his gun firing drowning out all else. Then he started the series of chirps and beeping that made up his ability to speak. “He says there were ‘cons there, but he took care of it. His scan says that the energon is still...no, now he’s saying he’s noticed the start of a tap. With human equipment.”

Optimus’s lines went cold. That was the next deposit in the line closest to the human market—the mall, he corrected himself. There was a big population centre nearby. Humans had no use for energon. Why were they attempting to mine it? Why would Megatron want them to?

“Sweet Xal,” Starscream said, his servos coming to cover his mouth. “It’s starting.”

“Optimus? Bee says he’d like to be bridged home.”

“Ratchet, open the space bridge.” Optimus turned to Starscream. It was the first look they’d shared for what felt like cycles. “I will fill you in We sent out Arcee and Bumblebee out on two missions today, one for relics and one for the hypothesized energon deposit. Arcee met no resistance. Bee did.”

The bridge whirred to life and Bumblebee walked through. He nodded at Starscream. Starscream was immediately beside him, frantically asking questions. “Was there any energon left? Did you notice any half-filled cubes?” Starscream asked. Bee shook his helm. “Frag.” Starscream glared at the screen displaying the maps of the mission sites. Arcee’s was not flashing, but Bee’s was. Raf hopped down from the table into Bee’s palm.

Bumblebee chirped at his defacto translator. “He also saw human equipment being used to drill into the ground. We suspect it was for the energon, as there were no other mineral or oil deposits reported nearby. It was very close to a human population center.”

“Then what we hypothesized was true. He’s planning to use the humans for his dirty work.” Starscream started pacing. Optimus’s optics followed his lover from one side of the room to the other, mindful of the frantic pace the other was moving. “Bumblebee. Are you aware of the human population of that area?”

Bumblebee made a long noise that they’d all learned to recognize as “no”. “Someone find me that.”

“What are you getting at?” Ratchet searched for the information. “And it’s near a suburb of Lake Tahoe. The human population of that suburb is 8, 795.”

“Do a scan of the area. Use the instruments. Tell me how many humans you register.” Bumblebee beeped to the affirmative and walked over to the console. There was a brief moment of silence while he scanned, all the Autobots in the room waiting on the result with bated breath.

When he responded Raf translated. “He says there’s...8, 005.”

Starscream skidded to a halt. He muttered to himself, glancing from the kids to the screen. “It’s not...it’s not possible. No, it’s not.”

“Stop walking around like your fragging processor’s stuck in a loop.” Ratchet snapped. “Share it with the class, Screamer.”

Starscream didn’t react to the nickname. “Megatron is obsessed with a prophecy, about falling darkness. Optimus, are you familiar?”

“Yes, I vaguely recall. I only remember what Alpha Trion told me. I know that there is a prophecy that great darkness will fall over Cybertron. I know Megatron sees himself as the bringer of that darkness.” Optimus recalled Alpha Trion asking him to help translate the ancient texts, including the Covenant of Primus. He’d never put much stock in those old things. At the time, with war looming, and oppression rampant, the writings of old Cybertron were forgotten with the demands of commanding an army. How foolish he’d been. “But what does this have to do with the humans?”

The kids and Bulkhead approached. “There was less dark energon on the planet than we expected. I was part of a project researching it, and we estimated...it doesn’t matter. The point is, Megatron exhausted the resources that were naturally occurring on Cybertron. He believes it’s the blood of Unicron. But where did Unicron go after he was defeated by Primus if the legends are correct? He thinks he can hear Unicron. That’s insane. But what if it isn’t?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think this has something to do with Unicron. At the very least, something Cybertronian came to Earth and poisoned this planet. This is one of two naturally occurring sites of energon. We don’t know how long the dark energon was here for. There’s a chance that...” Starscream looked at the kids with such empathy that it made Optimus’s spark hurt. “We have to test them, Optimus. We have to know if they’re infected with this poison.”

“WHAT!?” Miko screamed, clinging to Jack like her life depended on it. Raf’s face went blank. Jack just fell backwards on the table, landing on his rear. He hated to see the kids so worried, but Optimus knew that Star was right. It wasn’t a coincidence, and he’d never considered that the presence of the dark energon might not be entirely Megatron’s doing. “It would be a simple blood test. That’s all.”

“Bone marrow would be...” Starscream started but stopped upon seeing the horrified looks of the kids. “Blood tests are fine. Those will work.”

“I’ll take them to the lab.” Ratchet took them from Bumblebee and Bulkhead. “I hope you’re wrong, but I want to know for sure.”

“I hope so too, old friend. I hope so too.”

Starscream heard his pedesteps echo through the hollow of the Nemesis. The purple and red lights blinked rhythmically as he passed. Even if he tuned his audials he couldn't hear another living being on the ship. No Vehicons, no aerialbots, nothing. He couldn't even hear the obnoxious jaunty tune that Knock-Out liked to hum when he thought no one was listening. One of the lights flashed green for a moment, and the walls seemed to curve around him. The air felt cold and stale, just as he remembered. As he walked, it seemed like the hallway went on forever. This was a dream. He knew it was.

He’d been following Ratchet’s therapy program as best he could. Rung, the mech narrating all of it, explained that nightmares were just the CPU’s way of re-categorizing an overwhelming event into something a little more manageable. The key was learning to lucid dream and taking control over the dream. So Starscream kept walking. Maybe he could walk all the way to the airlock and leave.

Still, he felt his ethereal body shake as he walked through the familiar halls. Nothing stayed quiet on the Nemesis for long. Something was coming.

The lights switched off. _There it is,_ Starscream thought. A pair of purple optics lit up in the darkness. Starscream came to a stop. No one else on the Nemesis had those optics, and no one else used dark energon. No one else was allowed to. “Hello, Starscream. Have you been missing me?” A mocking voice rang out.

 _This isn’t real,_ Starscream reminded himself, _I’m still recharging. I can online at any time_. “No, I haven’t. I loathe you.”

“No, you don’t. You still want to please me, prove yourself to me. Just as you always have.” Megatron stepped out of the shadows. He was bigger in this space than he was in real life, and his shoulder spikes seemed sharper. Unlike his other nightmares, he lacked his signature sword. “You always wanted to please me, didn’t you? When did that stop, I wonder? When you met Optimus?” Megatron spat the last word. Starscream knew what was coming. He wondered if he could run away this time. He started charging his null rays.

“No. I hate you. I’ve hated you from the first time you forced me onto your berth, took what I was willing to give. I’ve hated you since you lost that battle and lost half my aerialbots, and I’ve hated you since you sent my squadron to die and refused to send them back up!” Starscream shouted, his servos balling into fists as he suddenly found a wall behind him. It was one of these dreams, he noticed. He stared defiantly up at his abuser. He felt his lips and legs shake. “If either of us is incompetent, it’s YOU!”

“Those were your fault, for being a failure of a commander.” Megatron embedded his sword in the wall behind him. “And I knew you were willing. You always are. I know that you wanted it.”

“You tore my valve in half, you pit-spawned fragger! I didn’t want that!” Starscream pushed him away, but he wouldn’t move. “You hurt me! Why? Because I wasn’t good enough? Because you were angry at losing another battle? Why?!”

“I only lost because of you, and how unforgivably stupid you are.” Megatron’s voice dropped to a low growl. Starscream’s lines ran cold. He knew this growl. He knew it too well. His shaking knees gave out and he sank to the floor. He was weak, and he was stupid. He actually thought he’d escape this time. “I returned after three cycles to see the Decepticons a shell of what they once were. Under your leadership. Do you know what it’s like to see something you built utterly destroyed by some meddling, idiotic fool?”

“Yes,” Starscream whimpered.

“Oh, you do?” Megatron taunted, bringing a massive pede down on Starscream’s prone leg.

Starscream smirked up at him, rallying for one last bit of defiance. “That’s what you did to my life.”

Megatron roared and kicked him in the face, knocking Starscream face-down onto the floor. The Decepticon leader picked him up by the neck, cutting off his air-intake with a powerful clawed servo. “You must think you’re so clever, don’t you.”

Starscream clawed at his abuser’s servo. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he knew he was lying in his berth, still inhaling and exhaling. “You can’t hurt me,” he spat, “you can’t. You’re not really here.”

As if on cue, a door parted and revealed two vehicons. They were dragging Optimus with them, his lover’s knees scraping along the floor. He seemed smaller than usual. His face was covered with bruises and marks, but he appeared alert and otherwise unharmed. “Star?” He lifted his helm and looked into Starscream’s optics. “Thank Primus. You are still functioning.”

Starscream’s lines ran cold. He tried to remind himself that Optimus was next to him, recharging, but it didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t feel the berth, and he couldn’t feel Optimus. All rational thought left him. “Let him go!” Starscream yelled. “This is between you and me, Megatron!”

“I thought I wasn’t real.” Megatron taunted.

“Let. Him. Go.” Starscream growled.

“Why should I? You chose to involve your precious Optimus in our sordid affair.” Megatron ran a claw down the prime’s struggling face. “So you are responsible for this too.” Starscream tried to activate his null rays, tried to move, tried to do anything, but he couldn't move. “Will you take his punishment, hmm? Will you take your punishment like a Decepticon, Optimus Prime?”

“I do not fear you, Megatron. For Starscream, I would endure anything.” Optimus beamed at his frozen lover. Starscream squeaked, tears leaking from his optics.

“As I thought. He’d do anything for you, merciless fool you are. So I’m going to make him watch as I tear your valve in half again.”

“No!” Optimus shouted, looking more terrified than Starscream had ever seen him look. “I will take his place, Megatron!”

The Decepticon leader laughed cruelly. “I know you would, Prime. That’s why you’re going to watch, helpless to save your precious seeker.” He stroked Starscream’s back in a sick parody of loving intimacy. “I hope you’re still tight, Starscream, so it hurts more when I rip you apart. Do feel free to scream.” Megatron was suddenly behind him, and Starscream tried to force his valve-door shut but he couldn't, his body wouldn’t let him, and he heard Megatron’s spike depressurize...

“STOP IT! NO! OPTIMUS! OPTIMUSSSS!”

Something was shaking him. Something hard. Starscream’s CPU registered the touch and woke him by sending a shock through his limbs. The servos on his shoulders were familiar, but they were not the ones he’d come to fear. Optimus was frantically trying to wake him, repeating “my spark, my precious one, please wake” and “come on, Star, WAKE UP” as Starscream’s awareness returned.

He was in his berth. The one he shared with Optimus. Where they recharged together every night after Megatron tried to kill him. Optimus’s brilliant optics were bright in the darkness. Starscream felt for his lover and pulled him close. “Oh, my darling.” He sobbed. “My Optimus. Thank the Allspark.”

Optimus wrapped his arms around Starscream’s shoulders. “It is alright, sweet spark. You are safe. Lights on,” he commanded, the lighting in his room flickering before covering the room in a soft fluorescent glow. “There now. Now we can sit in the light.”

Starscream’s chassis heaved and he continued to shake, even as his breathing evened out. “I had a nightmare.”

“I gathered.” Optimus helped Starscream sit up. “I am just glad I woke during it, not after you had already left to wander the halls in search of solace.”

“It was horrible.” Starscream shivered. He was glad for the illumination. He wouldn’t have handled being in an enclosed dark space well. “I was back on the nemesis. Megatron...he’d captured you. He was going to...and then he...”

“Hush, love.” Optimus stroked what remained of his wings. “It was not real. It will never happen again.”

“It might. If he ever finds out that I’m still alive, and that we’re together, he’ll probably do worse than that.” Starscream folded in on himself as much as he could. “Everyone says he can’t hurt me anymore, but he’s still alive. As long as he’s alive, I’ll have nightmares, and I know that. Do you know what my therapy module says? Even after he’s dead, I still might have nightmares. Isn’t that horrible? I can feel it in the core of my being. But I can’t kill him. I can’t become the monster he wanted me to be, the one I partly became.” He stared at his pedes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you have nightmares before now? On the Nemesis.”

Starscream nodded. “Yes. But then...when I woke up, I’d go for a flight.” He glanced sadly at his wings. “But that’s not an option, is it?”

“No, it is not.”

“So I don’t know what my choices are.”

“What did your therapy module suggest?”

“Ugh, Rung...meditation, exercise, distracting myself with an entertaining holofilm...things that I’ve never really enjoyed. It also suggested learning to lucid dream, which lasted until...until he dropped you in front of me. Then I was sucked into it, and it was real.” Starscream sniffled, wiping his optics. “I’m following the medicine regimen, I’m talking to Ratchet, and I’m doing the stupid therapy thing. And I’m not getting better. At least, not very fast. I don’t know what to do.”

Optimus looked at Starscream with profound sadness. “I do not either, Star. I too wonder what the killing of Megatron would lead to within me. I want him dead, yes, but I remember who he was, and I know that killing him would be different than killing an enemy combatant. An Autobot does not kill for revenge. I have drilled this into every soldier I have. We kill only in honourable battle. Killing him would be personal, too personal and it would be very, very satisfying. That is why I cannot let myself cross that line.”

“Look at us,” Starscream laughed bitterly. “He’s ruined both of us.”

“No.” Optimus shook his helm. “As long as we remain ourselves, as long as we remain together and happy, we are not ruined. Never ruined. Even so, I will risk becoming a soulless bringer of death if it means protecting you from the things you see in your dreams.” Tears leaked from Starscream’s optics. Optimus gently rubbed the spot just behind Starscream’s audials with his thumb. “Do not cry, my spark. Perhaps I spoke too quickly. I admit, waking to you screaming kicked my motors into high gear.”

“It seemed whoever cold-forged me picked an appropriate name.” Starscream flopped back onto the berth. The conversation was almost as uncomfortable as his dream. He didn’t want Optimus to risk himself, not for him. He wasn’t worth it. He feared that the nightmare would return with that knowledge. “Did you know I was born empty? I certainly act like it.”

“Starscream...”

“This is the most we’ve talked in solar-cycles.” Starscream pointed out.

“And I am no longer upset. Or angry. I am simply...concerned. About you.”

“I know,” Starscream said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I am the one who is sorry. You raised good points, even if they were not spoken in a way that reflects your true values. I suppose I have some residual feelings about my own relationship with...our former acquaintance.” Optimus smiled softly at Starscream and leaned forward to kiss his helm. “Perhaps I should complete the therapy modules with you.”

Starscream snickered. “They’re right up your alley. Full of platitudes and big, grand statements and huge ideas. You and this Rung fellow would have gotten along splendidly.”

“I imagine so. Even you have few negative things to say about him, which is a true testament.”

Starscream grinned. His systems were screaming at him to restart his recharge, or else he’d be difficult to get along with in the morning. “We should discuss this in the daylight.”

“And you should discuss fixing your wings with Ratchet. I think that is a more important task than your face-plate right now.”

“I disagree.”

“I know you want to fix your face for me, but I would rather you repair the parts of you that make you happiest.” Optimus stroked his cheek. “I want you to fly again.”

“So do I.” Starscream rubbed at his optics. “Maybe I should recharge on it.”

“Yes,” Optimus yawned, “I agree. I still need more recharge. I suspect your recharge wasn’t as restful as you’d like.”

“It wasn’t.” Starscream pawed at Optimus’s back, summoning him back down to the berth.

“For what it is worth, my love, I think that the therapy is working. You may not see how far you have come in such a short time, but I do.”

While the praise was nice, Starscream still wanted to recharge. This was all too much for him. He needed to rest his systems and save his fuel. “Whatever. Recharge now. Come, I want you to warm me with your engine.” The seeker pressed himself as close to Optimus as he could get. Optimus wrapped his arms around him but did not lay his helm down. It looked like he wanted to ask him something, something important, with how resolute his brilliant optics were. “What?” asked Starscream.

“It is nothing. Recharge now, my love.” He laid all the way down and pulled Starscream close to him. Within seconds Starscream was recharging peacefully.

The team was quiet, staring at the data pads in their servos. Or, most of the team was. Bulkhead’s had been crushed in anger after he’d finished reading Ratchet’s results. Starscream leaned against the corner. He’d been there when Ratchet conducted the tests, he’d proposed the idea, and even he didn’t want to believe it. Optimus’s teeth ground together. “What have we done?” he asked quietly. No one replied. No one had an answer.

“I’ve never wanted to be wrong before.” Starscream crossed his arms, shaking his helm. “But...”

“You’re not.” Ratchet threw his datapad on his table, the loud clang startling everyone in the room. “Primus.”

Starscream reviewed the data on the pad in his servos again. The results were clear. There was no second-guessing it. The kids all had dark energon in their blood and bones. The blood samples they’d asked Agent Fowler and Jack’s mother to obtain from their colleagues or patients all confirmed it. This wasn’t just a “constant exposure to Cybertronians” occurrence. It could be reasonably assumed that all humans had it. They were all full of the blood of Unicron.

“The humans have a natural life-span, despite that poison, right? It can’t be all bad.” Starscream offered.

“The humans evolved with it. It’s always been a part of them.” Ratchet pounded his fists on the table. “We’ve damned them all.”

“How do we fix this?” Arcee stared at her datapad. “We have to be able to do something.”

“We can’t extract it without killing them.” Ratchet shook his helm. “Again, they have a natural life span for an organic species of their size. We should leave it.”

“Megatron is not going to leave it.” Starscream pushed off the wall, storming across the room and facing the gathered Autobots. “I suspected before, but now I know this is his plan. He’s addicted to dark energon and he’s obsessed with Unicron. The humans have dark energon in them. They’re connected to Unicron. Is this all making sense?”

“You don’t have to say it like you think we’re morons.” Arcee snapped.

“Megatron is going to use the humans to summon Unicron with the dark energon in their bodies and the process is going to kill them!” Starscream stomped up to Arcee and shoved one of his clawed digits in her face. “Is that clear enough? This planet is doomed unless we do something!”

“Starscream, at ease!” Optimus shouted. Starscream growled at Arcee and stomped to Optimus’s side. “He’s right. We have to do something, or else our friends will suffer, along with their entire planet.”

“So what do we do, Prime?” Bulkhead asked.

“Perhaps I can answer that,” Starscream spoke up. Ratchet looked from Optimus to Starscream. Optimus nodded, wordlessly giving his permission for Starscream to speak. “We can’t take the dark energon out of the humans without killing them. And it’s in the Earth, so we can’t remove it without a lot of damage to the planet, basically killing everything living on it. So the solution is Megatron.” Starscream’s denta ground together. “We have to stop his ability to get the energon. I vote we kill him.” Bumblebee chirped. “The scout agrees with me.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. We send him to the pit, send the d-cons scrambling. Works for me.” Arcee agreed.

“No.” Optimus shook his helm. “We will not.”

“Why? Your ‘morality’?” Starscream finger quoted.

“We run the risk of martyring him, and creating a dozen Megatrons to take his place and enact his final wishes.” Optimus looked down at Starscream. “Do not let your anger cloud your judgement, Star.” Starscream snarled but remained silent. “We need to research the relics and find out which one he could use to put this evil into action, and discern his location.”

“I can do that.” Starscream stepped forward. Someone in the assembled group scoffed. “I researched and sought relics long before the war began.” He looked out at his peers with a raised brow-ridge. “I can’t fight beside you. At least allow me to lend you my processor.” Murmured agreement began.

“What if we found a way to render dark energon inert?” Bulkhead suggested.

“Great idea, we’ll work on that too. We’ll need a sample of the stuff.” Ratchet typed some notes into his datapad. “Starscream, can you help me with that?”

“I was a scientist once.” Despite himself, Starscream felt himself preen. He remembered being proud of his scientific abilities, remembered the joy that discovering something that could help others would bring. Arcee rolled her optics at him but he couldn't help puffing out his chassis. “We have two concurrent options. We need intel, as much as we can gather. Our plans aren’t complete. We don’t know his exact plan, but we should try to stop him as best he can.”

“What about the CIA?” Arcee asked. “They’re not going to be happy about that.”

Optimus looked to Starscream. “The CIA is tied up in governmental procedures.” Starscream’s face-plate split into a devious smirk. “While we wait for them to act, Megatron waits for no one. We will use our diverse skills to stop our enemy.”

“Here here!” Bulkhead shouted, raising his fist in the air.

Optimus smiled. This was going well, better than he hoped sharing the news of the dark energon infestation would. “Team, we will need to be on high alert in the coming times. The safety of the planet is on our shoulders. We must remember our downtime.” Optimus looked at Starscream. Starscream started stammering and looked away. “But we must also train and be prepared for everything. I will be sending out schedules within the solar cycle, and I expect them to be followed. Dismissed.” The group started to filter out, talking among themselves. Ratchet, Optimus and Starscream stayed behind.

“Do we tell the children, Ratchet?” Optimus looked at the scans of their small, fragile bodies. They were not even grown to their full adult maturity yet. They were will learning and growing, and so, so small. He wanted to shield them from their conflict, no matter how involved they were already.

Ratchet sighed. “We have to, somehow. We put them through those tests, they deserve to know.”

“Then they will know what our people have done to them.” Optimus shook his helm. “Our great shame.”

“Pieces of our people were sent here millions of cycles before they evolved Optimus. And besides, we’re trying to protect them.” Starscream rubbed his arm. “I know the children won’t blame you.”

“And if I blame myself?”

“If I don’t get to, you don’t get to.” Starscream picked up his servo and held it tight. “We’ll stop Megatron and save them all. I believe in you.”

“As do I,” Ratchet added.

“Thank you.” Optimus looked at both of them. “From the bottom of my spark.”

Ratchet harumphed. “Don’t thank me by sitting here talking. Thank me by protecting the humans.”

“So that’s them, huh.” Starscream ran his servos over the smooth metal Ratchet presented him with. The nerve connectors were finally added. The silver coating was close to his own, but not quite. No matter what, he’d likely look patchwork. Still, the metal was sparkbreakingly beautiful. After all of Ratchet’s work and his fretting, they were finally finished. Soon, so very soon, he would have wings again. “You did adequately.”

Ratchet elbowed Starscream. “Come on, I know you like them.”

“I don’t like them, you insipid fool.” Starscream rolled his optics. Ratchet gave him a light tap on the helm with his wrench and Starscream stuck out his glossa at him. “I love them. I’m so very, very happy.”

“I’m glad.” Ratchet moved to pat Starscream on the back. The seeker tensed for a moment. He reminded himself that his new friend was a medic and had already touched him all over his body and forced himself to relax. “I know the colour isn’t quite right, but we can fix that once it’s on.”

“First you remove my insignia, now you’re fixing my wings? I think I like you more than Optimus.” Ratchet snickered beside him. Starscream turned to look the medic right in the optics. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you, Ratchet. Truly. I mean that from the bottom of my spark.”

“I’m a medic, I’m just doing my job.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. I guess, and I never thought I’d ever say this, I’ve gotten attached to you. I rarely get a break from you, I suppose that makes it easier for both of us.” Ratchet looked away. “If you want to thank me...I can think of something you can do.”

“Anything. Just name it.”

“Never, ever break Optimus’s spark.”

Starscream smiled softly. His love would be so happy to see his wings restored. He could just imagine the smile on his handsome face. “Give me a real challenge, Ratch. I’ve already promised myself that I won’t hurt him.”

“Fine, then, smarty-bot. Then promise me this: you won’t take these,” he patted the metal planes, “and go into combat, just because you can fly again.”

“Come on! Do you really think...”

“Yes. I do. I know you want to help Optimus, and by extension, the team, but diving straight back into conflict is not the way to do it.”

Starscream crossed his arms. He hated it, but Ratchet was half-right. He was getting stir-crazy, and he wanted to help Optimus. Partly out of altruism, but a darker part of him knew that he wanted to make sure he was so useful, so essential, that Optimus couldn't get rid of him if they had a fight. Rationally he knew that his lover wasn’t like that, and had wanted him around when he was barely able to walk. The CPU was rational, but the spark rarely was. And his spark was broken beyond repair. “I promise.”

“And if I see you out there, I will shoot you down myself. I mean it, ‘Screamer. You can’t do that.”

“I won’t,” Starscream whined. “I’ll be careful. I owe you that much.”

“Thank you. I think we should do the operation soon. Not that I want to rush your recovery, and don’t take offence to this, but you have a lot of damage we need to fix. I still need to fabricate the lens of your optics. Have you given colour any thought?” Ratchet set the wing metal back on the counter like he was afraid holding it too long would break it. That was very common when non-Vosians treated flyers. They either thought wings were much more delicate or much tougher than they were.

“Yes. I don’t want red anymore. I...I was forced to change them. To conform to the Decepticon army. Before, when I was a scientist, I had yellow. But that doesn’t feel right either. That Starscream isn’t me anymore. I’m no longer innocent, and I no longer share my optic colour with my family.” He remembered his squadron’s brilliant yellow optics. Each member, despite sharing a colour, was completely different. Skywarp’s were always wide and paranoid. Thundercracker’s were usually narrowed and critical. He couldn’t think of the rest of them. Ratchet nodded sadly. “I don’t want blue, either. No disrespect, but I’m not an Autobot, either.”

“So what colour do you want, because all you’re telling me is what you don’t.”

“Green. Like this planet.”

“I can do that. I’ll start making them right away. If my opinion means anything, I think they’ll look nice. They’ll compliment the grey of your plating.”

“Thank you.” Starscream looked at his reflection in the shining mirror of the table. He looked like himself, but not quite. He was changing, he could feel it. And, unlike any other time in his life, he wasn’t going to fight it. “I think so too.”

Optimus waited in his quarters. He’d planned everything, to the last detail. He kept missing opportunities to ask Starscream to begin courtship. The time had never seemed right. So, he figured that he would make his own time and his own opportunity. So he’d painstakingly put fairy lights, as the children called them, all over the room, and the walls sparkled like the stars at night. He’d borrowed an air freshener from Ratchet’s med-bay, and he’d freshly washed their blanket and tucked it in nicely. The room looked intimate and fresh, and Optimus was so excited he could hardly sit still.

He heard the codes being entered into the door like they had been so many times before. He could hear Starscream grumbling to himself about the kids and Ratchet, like usual. Still, Optimus’s legs vibrated, almost shaking the whole berth.

“I need an oil bath, a good frag, and a nap. Please tell me you can help me out with one of those.” Starscream walked in and rubbed his temple. He lifted his helm, looking around the room. His optics went wide and his mouth fell open. “Optimus...” Starscream looked to his lover, smiling at him on the berth. Optimus reached out a servo to him, beckoning him to sit beside him. “What is all this?”

“I have been meaning to ask you a question. However, there seemed to be no right time, as often happens on a base. May I ask you now?”

“I do hope it’s “would you like an oil bath?”.” Starscream laughed nervously, staring at his knees. Optimus gently clasped his lover’s servo, lifting it to his mouth and giving his shaking digits a kiss.

“No,” Optimus chuckled, looking down into Starscream’s lone optic. “As much as I want to provide that...I cannot. No, it is...” Starscream looked up expectantly, his mouth half-open but twitching up in an expression of open joy. Optimus’s fans kicked into overdrive. They were clearly audible, likely even to Starscream’s damaged sensors. It probably looked like he had something to say, but it also looked like his CPU was malfunctioning. “I was thinking we, as in, the team, and yourself, and the kids too could have a cultural exchange.”

“O...kay....” Starscream tilted his helm. “Why?”

“I was moved by how you spoke of Cybertron being a dead culture. If we do not share what our home was like, or our languages, then they will die. I will announce it to everyone and we can collectively pick a date. I know the children will be delighted.”

“Oh.” Starscream moved away, disappointment clear on his face-plate. “That’s a brilliant idea. I’ll have to think of the things I love most about home, so that I may share it.” He started moving like he was going to get off the berth.

“Wait.” Optimus stroked the palm of his servos, waiting for Starscream to relax before taking his servo and dragging him back towards his loving embrace. “That was not really what I wanted to ask. When I looked at your radiant face, I forgot myself.”

“What did you want to ask, then?” Starscream asked, just a little snappily. “It can’t be that radiant.”

“It may not be, not to your critical optics, but to me, your face-plate is as radiant as it ever had been.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.” Optimus could tell that Starscream was on edge. He felt like this conversation was already spinning out of control. He had to get it back on track. This was important. He wanted Starscream to be happy. “Can I show you my favourite place on this planet?”

“What?” Starscream’s jaw dropped entirely.

Optimus took a deep inhale. “I want to court you. Properly. Will you come with me and watch the moonrise over a mountain? Will you go on a date with me?”

Starscream froze in disbelief. “How...how do you know the customs?”

Optimus smiled at him. “I researched them. I know it is only the first step, and one of the only ones we can do here, on this....”

“Backwater pit-hole?” Starscream offered, jokingly.

“This lovely planet,” Optimus continued, “but I want to court you. I know we have jumped ahead already in the steps, but I feel that matters not. I want to give you what you deserve; a proper relationship and a tribute to your beautiful home. Will you allow me this, Starscream of Vos?”

Starscream looked very off balance. He looked confused, surprised, but also...happy. His lips were just quirking into a smile. “No one’s ever...done this before. For me. It’s like the universe was saving me for you.”

“Then...” Optimus knew that Starscream wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to hear the words.

“Yes.” He spoke clear from his spark. “Nothing would make me happier.” Starscream’s smile made it all worthwhile. All the preparations, all the anxiety, everything they’d gone through. All of it.

“Then we will go. In two nights, when the moon is full.” He took Starscream’s servo and kissed it. “Thank you, my spark. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“You are already my _beloved and belonged,_ ” Starscream said, using the proper Vos term, “you don’t need to woo me. I’m yours. I’ve been yours since we kissed for the first time.”

“You deserve to be wooed, my spark. You deserve sweetness. And, I want to do this right.”

“You can’t do it worse than...”

“I do not want to be better than the worst. I want to be the best partner. For you. I...”

Starscream pulled Optimus in for a deep kiss. “I love you, my spark. I don’t deserve you.”

“I love you too, my Star, and I will show you what you truly deserve.” Optimus deepened the kiss, wisely locking the door before gently picking Starscream up and taking him to the table. Apparently, showing him was going to start right away. This wasn’t in Optimus’s plan originally, though he suspected no one (Starscream included) would believe him, but he wasn’t opposed to this turn of events. In fact, as Starscream wrapped one leg around his waist, he knew deep in his spark that he would never stop showing his partner just how loved he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I love Rung in MTMTE. I'm biased, of course, being in school to become a counsellor myself, but I wanted to give him a brief cameo in this piece. And, all his suggestions are things a therapist will tell you to do! Yay!
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20; The cute scene that was supposed to be in the last chapter is now in this one. Told you it wasn't gone!
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	12. Skyfire: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Starscream and his lab partner journey to a foreign world to complete their research, and things do not go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Death and grieving

SKYFIRE: AN INTERLUDE

The ship came to a slow crawl over the swirling white of the planet below. Starscream set the ship to orbit mode with shaking digits, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by his companion.

Skyfire gently tapped his shoulder. “You okay, Star?”

Starscream turned slowly to look at his companion. Skyfire’s significantly bigger white body blocked some of the lights, his kind blue optics shining down at his smaller lab partner. Sky’s perpetual smile was still on his face-plate despite their long journey. Starscream found that he couldn’t return it. “Our instruments are picking up a storm coming this way. I just...”

“Look.” Skyfire grabbed his shoulder and forced him to look into his optics. “Aren’t you tired of sitting in the lab, looking at spreadsheets and data and mixing compounds and reading. Endless reading!”

“I mean, yes, but...it’s dangerous. We know there could be new forms of energy down there or new compounds, but it’s uncharted. It’s so far from the closest outpost. What if something goes wrong?” Starscream knew his voice was whiny, but he didn’t care.

“You’re a seeker. You need to stop being so scared to discover new things, my friend.” Skyfire’s grin widened, starting to become more and more manic. “We’ve been studying this planet for years, Star. We know it like the back of our servos.”

“Yes, but...we should go together. I can help you. I...”

“Am still injured from your last relic-hunt.” Skyfire pointed to the patch on his wing covering a missing chunk, the wires and metal knitting themselves together underneath. Right. The wound didn’t hurt anymore so he’d forgotten about it entirely. He was under strict orders to stay out of high winds and “for the love of Xal, keep it dry”. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“You couldn’t keep me away. I did half the research on this place, you forget.”

“And I did the other half. If anyone’s qualified to do this, I am. I’ll go down, get the samples, and be back before you know it. We’ll never get another shot like this, let me do my job.”

Starscream let out an exhale. “You’ll be back in a cycle?”

“A cycle or two, weather pending.” Skyfire gave Starscream a quick hug. Starscream made his usual noise of protest and stiffened, but he relaxed into the hug very quickly. He had to put up his patented resistance, or Skyfire would get freaked right out by his display of anything other than rigid professionalism. “I’ll see you soon, Star. Promise.” He pulled off and made his way to the exit

“I’ll hold you to that,” Starscream shouted at his retreating back. He watched nervously as Skyfire transformed and flew out of the ship, running to the view panels. He wouldn’t stay beside them the whole time, but he would be monitoring them carefully. Something didn’t sit right in his spark, but he wasn’t superstitious. He’d occupy himself with one of his experiments until Sky got back. Everything would be fine, despite the nagging feeling in his tank.

#

“Starscream!” The comm crackled. Starscream darted across the room to the view-screen, quickly moving back once he realized he forgot to add the stabilizer to the compound he’d been working on. Once he’d added it, satisfied that he’d saved the ship from certain doom, he answered the comm, pressing a button to connect to the cameras Skyfire was carrying.

He squinted, trying to see what the surface looked like for himself. All he could see was grey and white. It was a little disappointing, really, to have spent so long studying the planet and have it be such an optic-sore. “Sky! What’s the surface look like from there?”

“Ice, ice, ice as far as the optics can see, with a little bit of snow for colour,” Skyfire laughed. The camera they’d attached to Sky’s chassis showed nothing but blinding white. He lifted the camera he was holding to his face-plate, his dazzling smile prompting a smile in turn from Starscream. “I think the storm is blowing in. I’m going to have to be quick, but it really is everything we hoped for. I can feel the energy, Star. I can feel it in my spark.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to get a good sample?”

“Oh Star, we have nothing but good samples. I’ll be heading back to the ship soon.” Starscream lost visual on Skyfire, the camera carried away by the wind.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Sky said with a laugh. Starscream could hear him stomping after the camera. “Just the wind. Guess I better hurry, huh?”

“You’d better!” Starscream tried to joke, but the nagging in his spark increased. He could hear Sky whistling to himself as he loaded their jars with water, ice, air, anything they could study to better understand the planet. The wind got louder. And louder. Starscream checked the meteorological scanner. The storm was picking up speed faster than they’d predicted. It would make contact any second. “Okay Sky, that’s enough. Get back to the ship.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The storm will be there any cycle! You don’t have much more than a breem to get out of there, or....”

“I have the samples, you paranoid loony. I’m fine. I’ve got a big frame. I can handle a little bit of wind.”

“Get back to the ship, Sky!” Starscream’s voice went shrill, high and panicked. He saw the wind swirling around a circle, a hurricane of snow and ice. “Please?” The visuals from the camera flickered out, white noise on the viewscreen where his friend’s face-plate was before.

“SKY!” He screamed, banging on the control panel. His ship itself started to vibrate, buffeted by the atmospheric forces swirling below. He grabbed onto the nearest surface, curling his digits around the lip of the panel. His pedes skittered on the floor as the ship rocked, knocking his experiments off the table. _Shit,_ he thought, watching green liquid streak across the floor. It wasn’t smoking. Not yet, anyway. _I’m going to have to be careful. Sky’s not going to be able to get back in if there’s a hole in the wiring._

“Star?” He heard over the comm. He slowly pushed himself up, leaning forward to the screen.

“What is it, Sky? I’m here.”

“I can’t...” Starscream heard the whine of his friend’s thrusters, struggling to break free of the atmosphere. He could hear the screaming of the wind over the comm. “I can’t lift off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t...there’s something pressing down from above, some sort of weather system. It’s fascinating. How...”

“That doesn’t matter right now, you idiot!” Starscream shouted. “Hold tight, I’m coming to get you!” He leapt from the chair and stumbled to the door, slipping and sliding on his way to the door. He was an excellent flyer. He had a very aerodynamic form. If he could just get out, he could cut through the storm...

“No!” Skyfire yelled. “You can’t fly in your condition. The winds are too strong, you’ll be torn apart!”

“Then I’ll take the ship down!”

“No! The ship won’t survive the storm either. Then both of us will die, and all our research with us. You have to leave!”

“Not without you,” Starscream wailed, falling to the ground, crawling back to the controls. He’d land the ship. He’d rescue Skyfire. They’d go back together. Everything would be fine.

“No, Star. I’ll touch down, and try to find shelter. When the storm clears, come get me.” Starscream heard him crash. He could hear his friend’s metal body bend and tear as it hit the ground. “I’ll be waiting.”

  
“I...”

“You’re cutting out, Star. I’ll be fine. Wait on the ship.” Skyfire’s voice reminded him of how his friend was before their hardest test, the only one either had come close to failing. He’d tried to sound confident, convincing himself and Starscream that they were fine, they’d studied enough, everything would be alright. His voice now was even higher, even more desperate. “Hey, Star.” He wheezed, his own comm shorting out. “You’re a great scientist and a great friend. Never forget that I love you, okay? Just in case I don’t make it back.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Starscream pleaded, “don’t talk like that.”

The line was silent.

“Sky? SKY?!”

Nothing but the howling of the wind answered him, and his own sobbing intakes.

#

The beeping of the scanners brought Starscream out of fitful recharge. His head was pounding, and his systems were already screaming at him to refuel. He couldn’t. He needed to conserve the energon he had left. He’d find Sky soon. He knew it. He just had to hold out a little bit longer.

Starscream dragged himself across the floor to the monitors. Nothing. He bit back a curse and pulled himself up. It had been...how many vorns now? He’d lost track. The storm was still swirling below. It couldn’t have been that long, could it? They’d only taken a few supplies since it was a quick trip. It should have been quick. Sky would be right back. He had to keep looking. He’d circle the poles again and work his way down, focusing on the areas with the most rock formations, the places Skyfire would know he could hide. He’d have to make the energon last just a little bit longer. He entered coordinates into the navigation system, his digits shaking as he did.

The ship wasn’t vibrating anymore. That was a good sign.

“Starscream.” He heard. He jumped, his spark seizing in his chest. Sky? No, that wasn’t him. Who was it? Why hadn’t he...ah yes, he remembered. The emergency hailing system. “Star. Please respond.” Skywarp, he recognized. “Please.”

“Frag this,” Thundercracker grumbled. “Screamer! If you don’t respond, I’m sucking the ship up in a tractor beam, and drinking all the high-grade in your room!”

Starscream laughed bitterly. There wasn’t any left there. He and Skyfire drank it all the night before they’d made this miserable trip. He pressed a blinking red light on the panel, allowing him to speak back. “I’m here.”

“Thank Xal,” Skywarp let out a deep exhale. “We were worried. It’s been...”

“I’m not coming home.” Starscream interrupted. “Not until I find him.”

Skywarp sighed. Starscream could hear Thundercracker grinding his denta over the line. “Skyfire’s gone, Star,” TC said with more empathy than he anticipated. “Please. Come back. The squadron needs you.”

“Skyfire needs me more,” Starscream said without emotion.

“He’s...do you honestly believe that he’s still down there, Star?” ‘Warp pleaded. “Don’t you think he would have contacted you by now if he was?”

“The atmosphere could be interfering...”

“I know you wouldn’t have dragged your best friend out here without multiple ways to communicate, in case any of them failed. Star. He’s gone. You need to come home and take care of your responsibilities to the people of Vos.”

Wet tears ran down Starscream’s face-plate. He bit his lip and closed his optics, his claws clenching into fists. Hunger gnawed at his tank. His spark ached in his chassis. TC was right. He hated it. He knew that Sky wouldn’t have been radio silent, not for this line. There was no way to even find his body. He’d be torn down the instant he left the safety of the ship. “I can’t abandon him,” he whispered, unsure if his trinemates could hear him.

“I know, Star.” ‘Warp said sadly. “Think of it as a strategic retreat. You can come back when the storm’s gone, right?”

“Like the pit he is,” TC grumbled, followed by a wince. Starscream was sure Skywarp had elbowed him in the side.

“Yeah,” Starscream agreed. “I’ll come back with a better ship, better equipment when I’m better.”

“Exactly,” Skywarp said as the ship started to move. Tractor beam, Starscream assumed. It wasn’t just an empty threat. “You’ll see him soon, Star. Don’t worry.”

More tears dripped down Starscream’s face-plate. He wanted to believe that.

He really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....my friend died and I wrote this interlude to help deal with my feelings. I don't know how she'd feel about having a chapter in a gay robot fanfiction dedicated to her, but this is where I'm at.
> 
> Edit notes: 09/28/20: Fixed up some body parts and spelling/grammar things and removed part of the old note because I finished all the interludes so no more requests for interludes. And I still miss my friend. A lot. But I know she's still with me, and I will keep paying tribute to her. Just...tell your friends you love them, folkx. Make sure they know. Some day, it might be too late to. 
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by the "Fire on the Mountain" episode of Transformers G1, where Skyfire/Jetfire is introduced as Starscream's old friend who is unthawed after crashing on a planet during a mission and freezing for a butt-tonne of years. Then, he's absolutely horrified by what his friend has become and joins the Autobots. It's one of the few episodes where Starscream shows an emotion that isn't snivelling or unearned cockiness (I love him so much, but, come on) so it's one of my favourites.
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) fic Tumblr: https://promisemeyouwontletmefall.tumblr.com/


	13. The First Time: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Starscream encounters Optimus on patrol and decides to exploit the Autobot's attraction to him for a quick frag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: References to sexual assault, explicit sexual content

THE FIRST TIME: AN INTERLUDE

From the moment Optimus Prime left his base for patrol, he had a feeling he was being watched.

He supposed it was probably the kids watching, but the farther he got from the Mount the more he felt like something was off. His scans revealed nothing, his own visual feedback revealing less, but it still felt like he was being followed. He drove out of the desert into the mountains, going deep into the trees, hoping that it would shake his pursuer. But, the deeper he got into the trees, the more he felt like whatever it was getting closer.

Optimus transformed, standing up and looking around. He could see a shape flying overhead, and tried to scan it, figure out if it was a human vehicle or another Cybertronian. His question was quickly answered as Starscream swooped down, cackling as he showered Optimus with a hail of laser fire.

“If it isn’t Optimus Prime,” The seeker remarked cruelly. “All on his own. I thought you Autobots did everything together.”

Optimus’s servos switched quickly to gun mode. “I do not wish to fight you, Starscream! Leave now, and I will not follow.”

“And waste a chance to eliminate Optimus Prime, the bane of the Decepticons? I think not.” Starscream swooped again. Optimus shot, but not to kill. He was trying to deter the seeker as best he could. He truly didn’t want to fight. The reason was a little less wholesome than his desire for non-violence. He had to leave before those reasons raised their ugly helms.

“Give it up, Prime!” Starscream shouted, dive-bombing the mech below. Optimus swatted at his foe’s alt-mode, wishing desperately that his nightly patrols had taken him elsewhere. He’d only wanted to escape the confines of the base for a little while, and get some much-needed solitude. He narrowly dodged a blast from one of Starscream’s cannons, dropping into a roll and colliding with a tree. Starscream laughed evilly and dropped out of the sky. “Too much for you, am I?” The seeker mocked, raising his leg to give Optimus a kick in the tank. Optimus caught his foot and twisted, sending his foe to the ground. Starscream hissed and tried to swipe at him with his claws, raking one across Optimus’s shoulder joints. The seeker then transformed and took back to the sky, circling the area. _How unfair,_ Optimus thought, _to be set upon by the reason I need solitude in the first place._

He knew his feelings for his enemy were unacceptable. He knew it could never be. He would drive for hours, contemplating how to get rid of them. He didn’t want them to be a liability in battle. He owed that to the Autobot cause. But, with every fight, they just grew stronger. There was something in Starscream, something he wasn’t sure the seeker himself saw, that drew him in.

Optimus stopped, panting. It was no use. Starscream had the advantage of the skies, and though he couldn't get very high in the thick vegetation of the forest they’d found each other in, it was enough to make him hard to hit.

 _You don’t want to hit him_ , a traitorous part of his processor whispered. _You want to touch him another way._

 _That’s true,_ Optimus’s rational processes replied, _his frame is slight and delicate where mine is large and built for power. If I hit him too hard, I could hurt him._

_He’s an enemy. Why not hurt him? He seems to be fine with hurting you._

His opponent hadn’t transformed and flown away yet, and was watching him with a guarded expression and matching panting exhales. He hadn’t thrown many punches either, and the blasts from his null rays were barely enough to tingle. Starscream was pulling his punches too, it seemed. He didn’t want to hurt him, either.

Starscream’s wide red optics looked at him, his gaze unreadable. Optimus transformed his guns back into servos. “I do not wish to fight any longer, Starscream. I will not pursue you, should you decide to withdraw and return to your base.”

The seeker laughed bitterly. “Ha! No chance, Prime. I have you right where I want you.” He unsteadily raised his arm, pointing his null ray right between Prime’s optics. “Say your prayers, Autobot. This is it.”

“Then why have you not taken a killing shot?” Optimus asked. “You do not wish to fight me. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I...” Starscream looked away to the ground, his arm lowering. He shook his helm. “Don’t presume to tell me what I do and don’t want,” snapped Starscream. “The question is, why haven’t you killed me?”

“It would be improper to take your life at this time. We are not locked in combat, nor do we have an objective. To kill you now would be dishonourable.” Optimus answered, hoping that nothing would show on his face-plate.

Starscream smirked. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Prime. That’s dishonourable too, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are referring to.” Optimus crossed his arms, belying the panic underneath. _How could he know? Have I been that obvious?_

To Optimus’s horror, his smirk deepened, and put his hands on his hips, pointing one leg to show the long, beautiful lines of his perfect frame. “I see the way you look at me, Prime. I can’t say I’m not flattered, but I do wish you’d just be honest with me.” He pouted.

“I...” There was no point denying it. Optimus could, but Starscream was right. Lying to him was dishonourable. And he was sure that, as a seasoned liar himself, Starscream would see right through it. Even if Starscream decided to use it to his advantage...well, if the seeker acted like himself and was a treacherous glitch, it would be much, much easier to fall out of love with him. _Wait...in love? When did that happen? I thought I simply lusted for his frame, not..._ “It’s true. I apologize if I have offended you.”

“Wait...you really...” Starscream adorably tilted his head. “You are truly attracted to me? Despite the whole Decepticon...thing? I had thought that it was simple hate-lust or blood-lust, but...”

“Your alignment in this conflict doesn’t make you less elegant, or beautiful, or strong, or well-built, or...”

“That’s enough,” Starscream interrupted his voice squeaking. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, “I can tell that’s how you feel. Why wouldn't you? Everything you said is true.” Starscream seemed a little hesitant, like he didn’t quite believe the very words he was speaking. It was very odd. How could he not know how stunning he actually was? How did he not see what even his enemy could clearly see? “What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you mean?”

Starscream’s brow furrowed. “I’d think that should be obvious.”

“It is not. Enlighten me.”

“I want to propose something, Prime. You are attracted to me. We can both agree that’s not a good thing, yes?” Starscream seemed almost...empathetic. Optimus nodded sadly. “But, I had a very traumatic experience earlier today, and I want a good frag. You’re also a very attractive mech. Why don’t we interface, right here, right now? You can get me out of your system, and I can get a good overload. What do you say?”

Was this even happening? Optimus wondered, his processor going blank as Starscream retracted his interface panel. A lovely spike depressurized, dark grey and lined with red biolights, and curved up towards Starscream’s digestion tank, and his dripping valve was visible right below it. It looked so soft and so plush, and Optimus swore he could smell ozone. Starscream looked at him coyly, shifting from side to side with his hips, accentuating every line of his perfect frame, his bobbing spike almost hypnotic. He felt his own spike tapping insistently on his panel, demanding to be let out to sink into the exquisite mesh before him, felt his intake start to lubricate, almost magnetically drawn to suck and lick the glowing spike and valve. He should say no, and go back to base, forget this ever happened. He should be strong. But he wasn’t strong, not like this. It had been so, so long since he’d fragged last, and the object of his lust for decacycles was right in front of him, offering him everything he’d ever wanted. Optimus swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry Prime,” Starscream said teasingly, a clawed servo trailing down his body and gripping his spike. Optimus’s knees shook. “I didn’t quite catch that. You’ll have to--”

“Primus damn it, Starscream, I want to frag you into next year,” Optimus growled, surprising both himself and Starscream. “I am going to make you overload so hard your memory banks will be wiped and all you will be able to think of for millennia will be my spike. Maybe you will finally be out of my system then. What do you say?” Optimus threw his own words back at him.

Starscream blinked at him before his mouth curled into a lustful, half-dazed smile. “Frag yes,” he whispered, tackling Optimus and pressing a kiss against his lips. The larger bot braced for impact, wrapping his arms around Starscream’s middle. It wasn’t quite enough to knock him over, but the sheer force with which the seeker collided with him combined with the scintillating feeling of his glossa being caressed by another had Optimus’s head spinning. Starscream’s spike was hot and wet against him, rubbing between their middles and producing little gasps and perfect little moans from its owner. Starscream grabbed one of Optimus’s servos and dragged it down to his aft. He lifted his lips from Optimus’s and leaned into his audial, purring right into it. “Come on, Prime. Touch me. What are you waiting for?”

“Consent,” Optimus murmured, giving Starscream’s aft a gentle squeeze. “A yes would help.” The metal was pliable but firm, just as he’d always imagined it. However, his would-be lover froze under his touch. “Starscream? Was it something I said?”

“Just get on with it,” he snapped, looking away and glaring at nothing. “Take what you want.”

“Starscream...” Optimus tapped Starscream’s chin, tilting his head up. The seeker refused to look at him, his optics trained on the ground. “Has someone touched you without consent?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Starscream crossed his arms, stepping away. “I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I should just leave.”

“Please, do not leave,” Optimus pleaded. “I apologize. I simply do not want to do anything without your consent. The past does not matter right now. Do you want to do this? With me?”

Starscream bit his lip and nodded. Optimus debated asking him for words, the same way that the seeker had earlier, but he was getting impatient. Optimus closed the distance between them this time, placing one servo on Starscream’s back, snug between his wings, and the other on his leg, hitching it up over his hip. A full-body shiver went through Starscream’s frame. Optimus let a thumb rub the place where Starscream’s wings met his spinal struts and the seeker mewled. Optimus kissed him deeply, swallowing up his cries and moans with his intake. Starscream pulled away, searching his optics for...something. “How do you want me?” he asked, slightly hesitant.

“Perhaps we should lie down,” Optimus suggested, looking at the soft grass and greenery of the ground beneath and around them. There would probably be blades of the greenery caught between their plating, but it would so be worth it. “I would like to lose myself in you completely, and I do not know if I can do that if we remain standing.” Optimus let go reluctantly, prompting a whine from Starscream, and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Once down, he attempted to move into an alluring position. He propped himself up on his elbows and spread his legs, just a bit, staring up at his partner. Starscream knelt down equally slowly, licking his lips as he crawled up Optimus’s body. “So beautiful,” Optimus breathed, lifting a servo to caress Starscream’s face. “What a treasure.”

The metal under Optimus’s hand heated. It threw Optimus for a bit of a loop. Starscream, air commander, second in command of the Decepticons, ruthless warrior was...blushing? He wanted to test it further. “Your frame is perfection incarnate. The sounds you make...” Optimus took a risk and retracted his spike casing, letting his spike retract fully. Starscream made a low keening noise as it touched the heated metal of his own sexual array, his spike twitching and valve leaking without seemingly any conscious control. “You are a vision, Starscream.” The metal under his servo heated almost enough to burn, but he didn’t want to move it. Not when Starscream’s brilliant red optics had fallen closed, just a sliver of crimson visible, his mouth half-open as he nuzzled into his palm. Not when he was practically writhing on top of him, grinding a dripping valve on his steel-hard spike. Optimus pushed Starscream back with a single servo, his lover letting out an undignified squeak.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to taste you,” Optimus rumbled, scrambling after him. “Can I?”

“Why? I’m ready for you now. I need your spike.” Starscream whined, letting his legs fall open as wide as they could. If he was trying to dissuade him, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Optimus could smell ozone and fluid and exhaust that was distinctly and uniquely Starscream. He wanted to be buried in it, bathe in it. But, if his partner didn’t want it...

“If you do not want me to, I will not.”

Starscream sighed sadly, biting his lip. Even that small motion sent electricity flooding through his frame. Optimus reached down and choked the base on his spike, hoping to stave off his overload as long as possible. “As much as I would like to, I don’t know how much time I have before I’ll be expected to return to the Nemesis. In a perfect world, we’d be doing this on a berth, in an enclosed space, but we do not live in a perfect world and...” Starscream’s optics wandered down, widening at the sight of Optimus’s servo on his spike. “I need that in me. I need it in me NOW.”

Optimus’s hips canted and he let out a low, growling moan. “Come here,” he ordered, the lowness of his voice a surprise to even himself, but Starscream scooted forward, leaving his legs splayed open. The smell was overpowering. Optimus lined his spike up with the valve in front of him. The feeling of the wet fluid on the tip of his spike was divine, and he couldn't wait to be buried in it. Starscream tensed at the intrusion, and for a moment Optimus feared that he’d startled his partner, but his back arched into a perfect bow and he let out the highest-pitched noise Optimus had ever heard. It was somewhere between a whine and a scream. Starscream’s face heated in embarrassment and he looked away, ignoring Optimus’s chuckling.

“Quiet,” the seeker hissed, shutting Optimus up in the best way possible—by positioning his hips and slowly sinking onto his spike.

It was Optimus’s turn to scream. Whatever he’d been expecting didn’t prepare him for sinking into wet heat and plush but firm metal folds. It was silky and soft, and impossibly tight. He gave his hips a tentative roll forward, surprised by how slick and easy the glide was. If he were a lesser mech, he would have overloaded from that sensation alone.

“Ha! You’re not laughing now,” Starscream said, entirely too self-satisfied.

Well, that wouldn’t do. Optimus thrust up into him, the passage around him tightening and clenching, the callipers working overtime to squeeze his spike. He could feel the array of Starscream’s inner nodes brushing against him as he moved, earning the most delightful gasps and moans. It wasn’t as tight the further he sank in, but the callipers and muscles squeezed his spike harder. His optics fell dim as he took in the sensations, but he knew he had to make it feel good for his partner. He grabbed a leg in each hand, threw them over his shoulders, and pushed in until he bottomed out. A warm pleasant feeling, like a charge, travelled up Optimus’s spike, going all the way through his body. He re-ignited his optics and looked down at his partner.

Starscream was panting, his glossa hanging out the side of his mouth. His entire body coursed with heat and he looked like he was smiling. As soon as he noticed Optimus looking, he tried to cover his face with his arm. “Don’t look,” the seeker panted. “Don’t humiliate me like that.”

“Humiliate you?” Optimus asked. He could still see Starscream’s blush and open-mouthed panting. “Do you think this is a humiliating act?”

“Is it not? I’ve allowed you to...”

“To make you feel good?” Optimus whispered.

“Is that what you see this as?”

“How else would I see it, Star?” He felt Starscream clench around his spike at the term of endearment and his fans kicked into overdrive. So the seeker liked dirty talk. Well, he could deliver. “I have the most beautiful mech in the universe underneath me. I have dreamt of hearing you moan and whine into my audials, and to feel you writhe beneath me. I wished to see your perfect face burning hot and to feel your claws run down my back as I thrust my spike within you. I do not feel humiliated. Do you want to know how I feel?”

“Yeah,” Starscream breathed, the smug arrogance from his voice completely.

“I feel incredible. You’re so tight around my spike, so impossibly wet. It’s better than I could have imagined.”

“You must not have a good imagination.” Starscream laughed, leaving his arm over his eyes.

Optimus growled and stopped thrusting. He grabbed both of Starscream’s eyes and pinned them to his side Starscream tensed, looking up at Optimus with fear in his wide optics. Optimus started to worry that he’d hurt the seeker accidentally. “I want to see your face,” he said, hoping the tenderness he felt was conveyed in his tone. “You’re beautiful.”

He let go of Starscream’s arms. If Starscream wanted to cover his face, he could, as disappointed as Optimus would be. Starscream looked at his arms, then at Optimus. His expression was unreadable. After a few kliks, his lips quirked into a smile. “Far be it from me to deny you.”

“You do not owe me anything, Star. It makes me happy, being here with you.”

“But you,” Starscream reached out and stroked Optimus’s face, “are denying me.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You said you would frag me so hard you’d wipe my memory banks. All of these sweet nothings have been nice, but what I need,” Starscream accentuated his need by rolling his hips, “is a good, hard, fragging. Will you continue to deny me?”

Optimus almost overloaded. The roll of his lover’s hips put pressure on different parts of his spike. “No, nor will I deny myself.” He tightened his grip on Starscream’s legs and pushed in further, pistoning his hips back and forth as fast as his joints would allow. The response was immediate. Starscream pitched forward, wrapping his arms around Optimus’s shoulders and his pedes hooked behind his back. The delicate mech beneath him was practically screaming in pleasure, and Optimus was sure he wasn’t being very quiet either. His thrusts were erratic and uncontrolled, chasing an overload that was long overdue. However, he wanted Starscream to overload first. He wanted to watch the usually proud mech come completely undone. He stuck his servo between their bodies and grabbed Starscream’s dripping spike. He tightened his servo into a loose fist and let the motion of his hips move his fist up and down, Starscream tightening deliciously around him as charge built up between them. The seeker looked up, red optics meeting blue, and he smiled deliriously before releasing his charge, howling with pleasure as every calliper tightened around Optimus’s spike, sending him into overload moments after.

Optimus’s processor went completely blank. The charge in him was so strong and so powerful that it reset his system. As everything came back online he looked down at Starscream. He seemed to be in the same position, slowly coming back to himself after a very hard reset. He was still smiling, not the smug smile Optimus had come to know well, but a genuine, very happy smile. It made Optimus’s spent spike just, making him realize that he was still inside his partner. He slowly pulled out, retracting his spike and putting it back in its casing. It took Starscream a few more moments to realize that his valve was empty, and he also closed his reproductive casing. “You could have left it in a few more kliks.”

“My apologies.”

“At least stay on top of me for a few more moments. Let me look at you.” Starscream lifted his servo and caressed Optimus’s face with surprising tenderness.

“Did you enjoy that?” Optimus asked softly, nuzzling the servo at his face.

“I think we both know that I did.” Starscream laughed, a beautiful sound. “How about you, Prime? Am I out of your system?”

Optimus looked down at Starscream. He’d fragged his crush, and it was the best interface he’d ever had. There was no way he’d ever be able to do this with anyone else. “I do not think so. I think I will need a few more times, just to make sure you truly leave.”

Starscream was silent for a few moments before breaking into raucous laughter. “I can make that happen,” he said, pulling Optimus in for a surprisingly tender kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS. The very requested scene has finally been completed. Please be gentle with me. I've never written sticky before, and it's a different beast than other sex scenes. I hope, despite that, you lovely people enjoy it. ❤️
> 
> Edited 09/28/20
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) fic Tumblr: https://promisemeyouwontletmefall.tumblr.com/


	14. A Chance Meeting: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Years before the war, when Cybertron was alive, an intellectual seeker bumps into a kindly data clerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! An Update! 
> 
> See end for more notes.

A CHANCE MEETING: AN INTERLUDE

Starscream wanted to scream as he passed the flashing holo-board advertising a celebratory pub crawl for the third time. He stormed over to it, his tense servo shaking as he considered tearing it off the bland grey wall and stomping on it until it started sparking. One look at the heavy screws attaching it to the wall was enough to dissuade him. Tuition and lodgings were expensive enough as it was, and adding a hefty bill for destruction of property (the sign) and vandalism (what would become of the wall) would not lend itself to a positive university experience. So he turned away and continued down the hall even more determined. Even if he arrived with a single breem left of the lesson, he would make it to class.

 _I was never this lost at RUV,_ Starscream thought bitterly, _and it was twice the size of this miserable pit-hole_. The thought that, while he was there, he’d had TC, the best navigator of the trine, with him, made him depressed. He also noted that at least the different wings of the school had different designs, whereas Kaon University was all made of the same dull material. It felt more like a prison than a university, and the awful fluorescent lights overhead certainly didn’t help.

Aside from the lack of landing pads, there were some distinct differences between Kaon University and the Royal University of Vos. For one, KU lacked the massive, towering ceilings of the main hall of the RUV had, the expert craftsmanship of the sprawling glass and metal spire replaced by flat steel and nothing else. The university must have lacked a fine arts department because the only things on the walls were holo-boards advertising the college bar, trivia nights and notices for students about fire drills. That wouldn’t have been so bad if the various holo-boards weren’t alternating between what felt like the same five posters. Starscream, lost as he was, couldn’t even use those as a way to figure out where he was. He almost missed the pretentious art installations of RUV, but not enough to want them back. Still, he felt like he was going in a circle, and he knew that he probably was, or more accurately, around the same corners over and over. The building was an awful square, with little off-shoots leading into different hallways, like little lines off of a horrible black spark. That was dramatic, he knew, but he felt dramatic. He was at least ten kliks late to his ‘introduction to chemical engineering’ class, and at this rate, it looked like he wasn’t going to make it at all.

He knew his trine would be laughing if they could see him now. Commander Starscream, always on time, always on top of things, hopelessly lost on his first day like some kind of freshman and late to every class. Skywarp would take special joy in the situation since he was the one Starscream was always forced to discipline for being late for training. The thought brought a frown to his face-plate. He didn’t want to be there, not entirely. But Kaon had the best engineering program on the whole of the planet, and only the best would do for the pride of the Royal University. It would be easier to find work in chemistry with another degree to prove he knew how to use chemicals, and he could finally get out from under Professor Cyclonus’s oppressive thumb. If he had to make the energon run one more time...So he would have to endure this madness for a little bit longer, at least until he had graduated. Maybe he could do some of his courses via distance so he could go home to Vos.

Ah, Vos. There was a pang in his spark. He’d never been away from home for so long. He’d left the city, unlike some of his counterparts, but never for more than a cycle or two. There were a lot of things to miss about the city, like the easy-to-navigate skies free of clutter and hover-cars, like tall buildings with doors on all levels, but what he missed the most currently was not being stared at by other students. At the RUV he was one out of untold fliers, but at Kaon he was one out of maybe 50 at the whole massive university. Other students openly gawked at his wings and his slight frame. He’d found it flattering, at first, but after a few decacycles it was getting old. He’d thought he was vain before but the looks of open lust weren’t making him feel attractive anymore. None of the few souls brave enough to speak to him ever had more to say than a poorly-worded objectifying invitation to interfacing. Yeah, no thanks. He was there to learn, not get mech-handled by gigantic grounders. He didn’t just get looks of appreciation, either. There was also open revulsion, curiosity, and confusion. Truthfully, the only other students who spoke to him so far were the ones asking him if he took spike. Everyone else ignored him or stared at him like they wanted him dead. They’d talk behind his back like they weren’t a footstep away like he couldn’t hear them.

 _“What is he doing here? Go home, flyer. You’re not wanted. What a snob. He thinks he’s better than me because he can fly, but he’s not. God, they’re so ugly. And small. Hideous. Why are these things even made? They’re useless.”_ And the worst part was that Starscream couldn’t say anything. Anything he said would just feed their prejudiced view of him. They’d made up their minds, and nothing he could do would ever change that. He’d never felt more alone.

Starscream turned a corner. He knew, from a weird stain on the wall, that he’d passed this exact place four times, and he groaned. Maybe if he went straight this time, instead of left at the lockers or right at the broom closet, he’d find his way to the classroom building. He tried to recall the map he’d been given at orientation, the one he’d left in his dorm. Of all the things to forget to put in his subspace! He grumbled to himself, his memory banks loading an incomplete version of it. He needed to turn right at the lockers, okay, but where was he supposed to go next...

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice a much taller mech barrelling towards him until they’d collided. The other mech let out a yelp as datapads rained from the heavens, Starscream letting out a sharp cry of pain as his helm bounced off a massive shoulder. Oof. He could feel it in his CPU. A warning label flashed, letting him know that his processor had been sufficiently rattled. He’d hit buildings head-first while flying completely sloshed on high grade, and that hadn’t done a thing to him. If he got a headache, he was going to be so fragging mad. It was really the last thing he needed, and he was going to give this glitch a piece of his mind.

“Watch where you’re going, you...” the words died in Starscream’s throat when he looked at the mech who’d run into him. Even hunched over, picking up stacks of fritzing, sparking datapads, it was clear he was very tall, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. Starscream had to fight back an impulse to start drooling as the other mech stood, brushing himself off and re-stacking his pads. His arms were truly massive, which Starscream refused to acknowledge as his ‘type’, no matter what Thundercracker and Skywarp said, and it was clear to see how he’d managed to carry so many data pads at one time. But his face-plate...it was perfectly sculpted, and two bright blue optics, the colour of Vos at night, were staring at him, his lovely mouth open and words spilling out. _Oh, right. I should probably listen_ , _shouldn’t I?_ Starscream thought, blinking, breaking the spell those captivating optics had him under.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I mean, friend. I mean...” He stammered, trying to keep his stack level as a datapad threatened to fall off the top and clatter to the floor. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

“I...” Starscream wanted to think of a witty response for him, to sound cool or suave, but he had little to no experience talking with attractive mechs when he wasn’t screaming at them for getting in the way of his squadron. He really should have gone to the club with Sunstorm at least once instead of brushing his squadron-mate off to study for an exam he didn’t have to take. Then he’d at least know how to force his processor to reboot and start forming words again. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh, good!” The other mech beamed. His smile was...aside from something naturally occurring, like a sunset or the cyber-sea, the first thing he’d ever thought of as radiant. Starscream felt his knees go weak. “I know this is a bit of an ask, but do you happen to know the way to the library? I’m, admittedly, a little lost.”

“Heh, I’m a little lost too,” Starscream said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m new here.” _Why am I telling him this?! He’s going to think_....his mind flashed through all the things that had been said to him since arriving. _Why is one of those flyers here? They don’t belong here. Thinks he’s better than everyone else. Weak. Pathetic. Delicate._ He didn’t need this very attractive mech to think those things about him.

“Me too,” The other mech admitted. “I’m on loan from Iacon’s hall of records. Alpha Trion sent me over to help with the university library’s update, and some of these datapads got corrupted in the process, and...it’s just been one big mess.”

“You work with Alpha Trion!?” Starscream sputtered. “The Alpha Trion?”

“Yep! He’s a good boss.”

“Good? He’s a legend. If he’s sent you here, something must really be wrong.”

“You’re not kidding.” The other mech shook his beautiful helm. “Half the other clerks are close to having a bluescreen, and I don’t blame them. But I’m sure you don’t really care about any of that.”

“Oh, I do! I was curious about how that was going. I’ve been having trouble with getting sources for my assignments. The first week and they already have assignments. How tedious. I’m not sure why they chose now to update everything, but it’s a pain.”

“You’re...you’re a student?!” The other mech gasped. “I don’t mean any offence, but I thought you were a professor. You’re a bit...”

“Older?”

“...more mature than most of the other students here.” He finished.

“Well, this is degree number five, so I suppose I am a little bit more mature, as you’d say.” Starscream gave him a flirtatious smirk. “That’ll teach you to judge others based on their appearances. I wouldn’t have thought you were a clerk, either.”

The other mech laughed, to Starscream’s surprise. “Very funny. You’re not alone in that. No one does. They all think clerks are small framed and limber limbed. They don’t except someone tall and broad to come and help them decipher a challenging line of code.” He grinned again. “Degree five, you say? Wow, that’s incredible.”

Starscream blushed. “It’s nothing. What can I say, I’m just a nerd.”

“You don’t look like one.”

“There you go, judging based on appearances again.” Starscream teased.

“Oh dear, there I go again.” His companion teased right back. “I suppose I should get to know you, so I don’t need appearances to go by. Perhaps on a walk to the library?”

Starscream checked his internal chronometer and balked. He was already halfway late for his class. He sighed. There was really no point in going there now. He had a vague idea of where the library was, but no idea where the class was. _And,_ his CPU helpfully supplied, _he knew there was a handsome mech here, and didn’t know if there were any in his class_. That made up his mind for him. “Sure,” he said, a little resigned, “why not?” The other mech didn’t notice. He just smiled wider, almost bouncing on his heels, threatening to send more datapads to the floor. “I’ll help you with those, too,” Starscream said, surprising himself. “We wouldn’t want to damage more library property.”

His companion eagerly loaded his arms with datapads. “No, I suppose not.” The other mech paused. “So...do either of us know where the library is?”

“I have a vague idea. Follow me,” Starscream said, walking a little ahead, swaying his hips as he did so. He heard the other mech’s intake hitched as he hurried to keep up. Starscream stole another look at him. He was a sweet mech, really. Handsome and resolute, even in his stammering and clumsiness. _Shame,_ Starscream thought, _that he’s wasting those looks_ _as_ _a clerk, shoved in some back-office somewhere hunched over a desk_. “This is a big school, it may be a long walk.”

“I don’t mind. I have a very nice flyer to talk to.”

Starscream cleared his throat. “So you do. I don’t believe I caught your name. Or asked for it, now that I think about it. I’m Starscream.”

“Orion,” his new friend said, “Orion Pax.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something a little cute, and a little fun, before we're back to our regularly scheduled programming of depressed robots 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Edited 09/28/20: Fixed up some spelling and formatting issues. 
> 
> PS: This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) fic Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	15. The First Crack: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Before Starscream met Optimus, he had Megatron, and Megatron had him. Or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you that I was going to hurt you. 
> 
> CW: Sexual assault, domestic violence

THE FIRST CRACK: AN INTERLUDE

Starscream stumbled to his chambers through the expansive halls of the Nemesis, leaving a glowing blue trail behind him. His system flashed warnings at him and he grit his denta. _Shut up,_ he thought, as one screamed at him to rest, _what do you think I’m trying to do?!_ His uneven gait had him tripping over his own pedes. He gave up on walking on his own and leaned against the wall for support. Energon dripped down his arm from a wound in his shoulder. Knock-Out bandaged him up as best he could, but they wouldn’t hold. Starscream knew that he’d be going back to KO before the cycle was through. The wound, he noted, glaring at the image of the little Autobot sniper his traitorous CPU provided for him, was right on the joint. No matter what he did, he’d reopen it somehow. The miserable little glitch got him good, and he wasn’t sure if the stupid mech was among the Autobots they’d killed during the battle. That was the biggest insult to injury. The fight itself had been so hectic it was impossible to tell.

Starscream typed in the code to open his door with shaking digits, almost falling face-plate first into the room when the door slid open. _Just sit down_ , his CPU nagged at him, _just get to your berth and sit down_. Even though it was only a scant distance away from the door, it felt like walking the whole of Cybertron. He limped to his berth and flopped down. The action sent pain along his wires, right to his over-tired processor. He winced and rolled to his non-injured side. He just needed to recharge. That was the only thing that would make him feel better since the painkillers he’d been given were clearly not working.

It would have been nice to know, before leaving for patrol, that Blitzwing was carrying access codes and schematics for the Autobot’s new shuttles. He wouldn’t have taken the triple-changer out on a simple patrol had he known. If he’d been forced to after that, he would have at least had Thundercracker watch Blitzy’s back as they flew over the remains of Tyger Pax, but no. Megatron had once again left him out of his plans. And look where that got them. The Autobots had been waiting for them, intent on stealing their codes back. They’d fought valiantly and back-up came quickly, but it was the principle of the thing. He was supposed to be second-in-command, but he felt like he was being kept in the dark. Starscream wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to be a commander if he didn’t have the information he needed to adequately lead his team. But, at the end of the day, his whole team made it back, and they’d killed a few of their enemies. That was a testament to his skill. Perhaps that was what his leader would see. Maybe he’d finally give Starscream a smile. Those were all too rare these days.

Megatron had been so angry lately. They’d managed this win today, but they’d suffered many losses in the past quartex. The Autobots were getting smarter, braver, and were finally putting up a decent fight. It would have been inspiring if he didn’t have a leaking hole in his shoulder.

Or a healing crack on his cheek.

 _No,_ Starscream thought, _I mustn’t be bitter. I shouldn’t hold it against him_. It hurt, but Megatron hadn’t meant it. His poor leader was simply over-worked and over-tired, and upset that they were losing. Starscream shouldn’t have made it worse. He spoke out of turn, and he didn’t watch his tone. He’d been very rude about correcting Megatron, and it was normal that his leader-cum-lover would lash out in response. Starscream...in his spark, he knew he wouldn’t do the same to any of his squadron, but perhaps that was why Megatron was the leader of the Decepticons and he wasn’t. Better discipline. But Starscream did well today. He knew he did. So Megatron would be happy. And he wouldn’t hit him. Of that, he was sure.

Starscream was half in recharge when the door to his suite slid open. There were only a few mechs on the ship who knew his code, so he called out to the most likely one. “Go away, TC. I’m fine. Let me recharge. Tell ‘Warp that I’m still alive so I don’t have to wake up again in a few mega-cycles.”

Dark laughter filled the room. Starscream sat up, his pain momentarily forgotten. Glowing red optics cut through the shadows of his room, his visitor’s paint job blending in almost too well. He knew that sound well, though he hadn’t expected to hear it so soon. _Megatron_. “What are you doing here?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” Megatron chuckled, raising a brow-ridge.

“Obviously,” Starscream snapped. Megatron’s smile faltered. His servo twitched. Starscream’s spark sank. He immediately backpedalled. He didn’t need another crack today. Besides, it was nice of his leader/lover to check in on him. Starscream smiled a little. He doubted it, often, but he knew Megatron really did care about him. “Forgive me, Lord Megatron. I’m just sore. From the battle.”

“Such a shame. You performed exemplary.” Megatron sat next to him on the berth, taking up most of it with his wider frame. Starscream scooted towards the wall to give him more space. He felt Megatron’s servo on the top of his leg, rubbing soothing circles. Or they would have been if his grip had been just a little less tight. “Victory from the jaws of defeat, as it were.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Starscream yawned, stretching out as wide as he could, trying to show off how utterly exhausted he was. He could tell Megatron he was tired, of course, but Megatron didn’t listen sometimes. It had to be very clear, with no room for second-guessing. “I’ve enjoyed our talk, my Lord, but I am very tired and...”

“Don’t you want to be rewarded?” Megatron purred, leaning over so his shoulders were brushing Starscream’s wings. “I’m feeling very generous.”

 _Then let me sleep, you big oaf!_ “Perhaps tomorrow.” Starscream made to lie down, shuffling back to give Megatron enough room to sit on the berth still, but let him recharge. “The adrenaline has worn off, and all I want to do is rest.”

“Then lie back, and let me take care of it.” Megatron swung his legs onto the berth and crawled over top of him, flattening him to the bed. Starscream tried to wiggle his legs, find some kind of escape, but he couldn’t. Megatron’s knees were big enough that, even though Starscream could stick his pedes out, they pinned enough of his legs that he could barely shake an ankle-joint. His shoulder ached. His arms were trapped at his sides, his helm and neck the only part of his body that could move. Megatron kept purring, his engine warming the chassis pressed against him, but all Starscream could do was silently thrash.

Panic started to flood his systems. Adrenaline and energy he didn’t know he had coursed through his lines. He needed to get out. Out from under here, out of the room, maybe out of the ship. Everything in him was flashing warnings, get out, get out, get out! He locked optics with Megatron and shook his head. “No, but thank you. I really mean it. I just want to recharge.” _Please, just leave and let me rest!_

For a moment, it looked like Megatron was going to leave. He pushed himself back and looked down at Starscream, something unreadable in his gaze. His mouth was a straight line, his jaw tense, his brow-ridge even. Starscream had been around him long enough to know that the other mech was a little upset, but he also didn’t look like he was going to explode into rage. Starscream turned onto his side. He’d get out of this, no matter what Megatron did next. He knew that. It didn’t stop the panic, nor the lingering sense that something bad was about to happen.

“No,” Megatron said, snaking a servo between Starscream’s legs, pushing him back onto his spinal struts, rubbing his digits over Starscream’s interface panel. “I don’t think so.”

“What are you doing!?” Starscream sputtered, using the new use of his limbs to try to feebly kick him off. He managed to connect with Megatron’s shoulder, but the other mech didn’t budge. “I said no, you fragger! Get off of me! Get out!”

Megatron growled. Starscream had no way to dodge the fist that pounded into his forehead. His system was shocked, warnings flashing in his optics, losing control of his frame for a few precious seconds, his whole body going limp. That was all Megatron needed. His leader-cum-lover dug his clawed digits into the panel, forcibly opening the cover to his valve. His dry valve. Megatron had never done this before, no matter how angry he was. Sure, he’d guilt Starscream into interfacing when he was injured or tired, but Starscream always consented. It was easier just to give in. But this? This wasn’t the same. Everything about it was wrong. As his awareness returned, he took in the sight of Megatron looming above him with violence written all over his face-plate. Starscream whimpered. He started to shake.

“You did very well today, Starscream. Do you know what happened to me?” Megatron asked, sliding in a digit, right up to the joint. Starscream went rigid. Pain shot through him, radiating from his valve all the way up his frame. He bit his glossa to keep from crying out as Megatron continued to rant. “I faced Optimus Prime in combat, and I lost. He defeated me, like,” he thrust the digit in roughly, “he,” thrust, “always,” thrust, cutting one of the valve walls, a little bit of energon and transfluid starting to leak out, “does.” Megatron retracted his digit and licked it, making optic contact with Starscream the whole time. Starscream could usually school his facial expression, keeping his face-plate blank, but he couldn't keep his lips from quivering. Tears streaked down his cheeks, his optics wide and wobbly, his oral intake open in shock. Megatron took that opportunity to shove his soaked digit into Starscream’s open intake. “You cannot imagine my frustration. But you can fix it, my little lilleth. I wanted you to be a participant, but I will take what I need to de-stress. That doesn’t require your consent. Do you understand?”

Starscream nodded with tears in his optics. He did understand, but there had to be another way. He’d done well. Why was Megatron so intent on hurting him? Why was he talking about a reward and yet forcing him to endure this punishment? Megatron retracted his digit, and Starscream started to beg. His pride was not worth this. “Please, Megatron, my love. Anything but this. It hurts. I’m injured. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll run you an oil bath. I’ll give you a massage. I’ll suck your spike. Please. You know I adore you, right? I’m not insulting you. I just...”

“I don’t care to hear your excuses,” Megatron snapped, interrupting him, slapping him across the face. “You will allow this, or I’ll do to you what I desperately want to do to Optimus. I promise you, Starscream, that will be so much worse.” His red optics narrowed, a servo finding it’s way to Starscream’s neck and pressing down. Starscream coughed and sputtered, clawing at him, his processor starting to disconnect from his frame. Why was this happening? Megatron...he could be a little rough sometimes when they interfaced, but he always stopped when Starscream said he was in pain. Most of the time. He just didn’t hear him, sometimes. And he only smacked Starscream around when he deserved it, like when he was talking back, or out of turn, or standing too close, or...

Maybe, part of Starscream said, he should have seen this coming. Whatever happened next, perhaps it was, in some way, his fault.

Megatron grabbed him, picked him up and threw him back onto the berth, front first. Starscream felt the wound in his shoulder re-open, dripping burning hot energon onto his berth. “Stop making that horrible, snivelling face. It’s hideous. But this view,” servo ran over his wings, making Starscream shiver, continuing down his spinal struts, “I like this much, much better.”

“Megatron,” Starscream pleaded, trying one last ploy, “at least do me the courtesy of lubricant.”

Megatron paused. “No,” He said, lining his spike up with Starscream’s fluttering, clenching valve, “I don’t think you’ve earned that.” He shoved all the way in. Starscream screamed.

Megatron grabbed a fistful of Starscream’s pillow and shoved it into his open mouth. “Shut up,” he growled. “Or I make it hurt.”

Starscream let out one last scream and then, for the first time in his life, went silent.

#

Starscream came back to his body when Megatron pulled out, a line of transfluid and energon seeping out of him. _How long had it lasted?_ he wondered, his internal chronometer not co-operating. _Kliks? Breems? An entire cycle?_ The pain started to register, a deep stabbing as far in as it could go. It felt like he’d been shot through the middle with a laser pistol. He’d never known his insides could hurt this much. He’d never felt anything like it.

Megatron rubbed his wings. The gesture was almost tender. Starscream jumped, his appendages twitching. Megatron snickered at the action, continuing to stroke him. “Thank you, Starscream,” his leader purred. “I feel much better now.”

Starscream just groaned. He couldn’t find his voice. His throat was raw from screaming into the pillow, and he was just starting to feel soreness in his forehead. He knew he’d have indents on his hips that would take days to buff out. He lay still, refusing to move, hoping Megatron would finally take the hint and leave. Instead, his leader rolled him to his side and then laid down beside him, wrapping his entire body with his own. He could feel how warm his engines were now, how hot the metal around his interface panel was. It made the energon in his digestion tank churn. Megatron seemed so pleased with himself, nuzzling into Starscream’s neck cables and nipping at them.“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Starscream’s middle. “So pretty, especially when you’re quiet.” Megatron chuckled. “That was a joke, lilleth. You’re supposed to laugh.”

Starscream laughed softly, without any mirth. He was starting to leave his body again. This was...did that just happen? Where was the anger, the hatred? Where was the violent, cruel mech who’d been in his berth just moments before? Megatron now was...well, the Megatron he knew, the one no one else did. Who tried to make jokes, and had an endearing rumbling chuckle. Who liked to cuddle. But the fluid pooling between his legs reminded him that it did happen. And that Megatron enjoyed it.

“Let’s recharge together,” Megatron murmured sleepily into his audial. “We never recharge together anymore. We did every night when we first took possession of this ship. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” Starscream whispered, smiling a little. They’d been so happy then, vibrant with victory and full of confidence and joy. It seemed so long ago, now, back when there was still a chance they’d win. Now it all seemed so distant. So much had changed. He’d changed. He was no longer sure it was for the better. He’d been so in love, then. Megatron had been his entire world, his reason for being, the only mech who’d ever come close to being his [beloved and belonged]. What was Megatron now? What would Starscream be without his precious leader?

Was he still in love?

Was Megatron?

“I loved that,” Megatron purred. “I love you.”

 _Well, that answers that_.

“Say it back.” Megatron murmured darkly, his malice still creeping in even as he prepared to rest.

“I love you too,” Starscream replied. A half-truth. One he was getting so practised at. Somewhere along the way, through the defeats and the beatings, he’d become ever so good at lying.

Megatron kissed his cheek. “Rest now. Stop twitching, you’re keeping me online. Yes, just like that. Thank you, my little lilleth. I love you.”

 _I want to believe that,_ Starscream thought as he fell into recharge. It seemed he was getting good at lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That happened. 
> 
> I thought it would add some depth to the story to show a bit more of the abuse Starscream had to endure at the hands of Megatron. I'm a survivor of sexual violence, and writing these things, while difficult, is very helpful to me on my recovery journey. The excuses Starscream makes are the ones I made. I hope it can help you too. 
> 
> It wasn't your fault. I hope you know that. ❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the Promise Me tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	16. A Dark Addiction: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Starscream overdoses on dark energon, and receives help from a surprising source (spoilers: it's Optimus).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: use and abuse of a drug analog, overdose caused by drug analog, forced use of drug analog, implied past domestic abuse
> 
> Heavily inspired by "Addict" by Silva Hound and Michael Kovak from Hazbin Hotel.

A DARK ADDICTION: AN INTERLUDE

Warning lights flashed across Starscream’s optics, flooding his system, warning him of the poison flowing through his lines. He couldn’t even hear the usual alarms that went with them. All he could see was purple. Vivid violet, perfect Byzantium at the corners of his vision as his system fought against the blood of Unicron. The legend was slag, he knew it, but damn. Starscream felt like a God when this stuff was in him. He fought like Megatron. No, better. He dodged, transforming in nanoseconds, firing blast after supercharged blast, melting the metal of his barrels, but he was hitting, right? He could smell ozone and energon and death. He’d missed this. He needed this. He was nothing without this. He transformed back, breaking into a run. He fell, scraping his knee joints on the ground, sliding across the battlefield on his chassis. He couldn't feel his pedes. Sweet Xal. He couldn't feel his pedes. He couldn’t feel his servos. He couldn't feel anything.

He couldn't feel anything...

He heard someone yelling for him, somewhere in the distance. He wasn’t sure who it was. It didn’t matter. He could finally hear the alarms, for all the good it did him. _System shut down_ , they blared. _Critical failure imminent_.

 _Heh,_ Starscream laughed to himself, rolling onto his spinal struts, staring up at the grey sky above. _Critical failure is what Megatron calls me, too_.

Where was Megatron, anyways? He’d been covering his retreat, right? Was he already gone? Starscream blinked, his optics starting to power off. Something wet registered at the back of his CPU, against his derma. It was raining. Was it acid rain again? It looked almost green in the dying light of his home planet. He couldn’t remember where he was. He heard panicked pedesteps coming towards him. “Megs?” he croaked. His vocoder must have been damaged. The words wouldn't come out. He smiled. Megatron wouldn't leave him to die. He would online back in their berth, cozy next to his engines. Or, a darker part whispered, he’d wake up in the infirmary again, hooked up to life support, with a few new holes and a few choice dents.

It didn’t matter. His shut-down countdown started, warning him that he was only seconds away from being totally offline. He shut his optics. Even the grey sky seemed impossibly bright. As they dimmed, he swore he saw a big body, and bright blue optics, hovering over him, but that couldn't possibly be right. Perhaps it was an Autobot come to finally finish him off.

He couldn't say that he didn’t welcome it.

#

Optimus, for all his life experience, had never seen an overdose.

Of course, he knew about the mechs who lived in the dead-end. He’d passed them on patrol, had seen the emptiness in their optics. Dark energon, for all its evil properties, was just another circuit booster, when it came down to it. Megatron wanted to seed the planet with it. He knew the rumours, same as any Autobot. He also heard the rumour that the Decepticon high command was using it to improve their strength in battle.

Starscream wasn’t just using it. He was abusing it.

At first, he thought one of his mechs got lucky and shot the seeker. The Decepticon had been faster than he’d ever seen him before, more powerful, but more reckless. Starscream usually practised better strategy than this and was smarter than letting himself get close enough for his enemies to get a good shot in. Then Optimus saw the glow, clear as day in Starscream’s optics as he fell from the sky. He was seizing, shaking, purple haze streaming from his optics and his intakes. Then he stopped moving entirely.

Optimus and Starscream were the only ones left, pretty well, on the battlefield. He’d ordered most of his mechs back as he pursued Megatron, but with Starscream and Knock-Out covering Megatron’s retreat, there was little he could do. He was just about to retreat when he’d seen it. His pedes were leading him to the other mech’s side before his rationality processor could keep up. He wasn’t very rational lately. Not when it came to Starscream.

He couldn't deny that his spark ached when he saw the other mech. He couldn't deny how beautiful he was. It was impossible. He remembered, vaguely, a mech he met before he became a Prime, who was very charming, funny, and intelligent. There was nothing left of that mech but his alluring frame, but Primus damn him, it was alluring. Perhaps there was something deeper, considering his mad rush to the mech’s side.

“Starscream!” He shouted, drawing the attention of Knock-Out. The medic loudly swore and started running over too, dodging bits of metal as he went. Optimus just plowed through the carnage, stopping short of trampling the very bot he was trying to save. He fell to his knee-joints, pulling Starscream into his arms to lift him up. The purple haze was only just dissipating, leaving his optics the red that Optimus was well used to. He was still quivering, the last synapses firing through his wires. Knock-Out crowded him, looking at the dazed expression on Starscream’s face.

The medic shook himself out of his shock and pointed his trident at Optimus. “Put him down. I won’t let you take him prisoner. Not like this.”

“What happened to him?” Optimus demanded, alternating between glaring at the medic and looking down at the mech in his arms.

Knock-Out bit his lip. “Dark energon. Megatron feeds it to him, to make him fight.”

“He does not want to?”

“He’s smart enough to know when to fight and when to flee. But as long as our “esteemed” leader,” Knock-Out growled, “gives him the dark energon, he’ll charge into battle without a care in the world for his own safety.”

Optimus gently rubbed Starscream’s cheek with his thumb. The seeker nuzzled into his hand like he was craving a gentle touch as much as he was craving Megatron’s poison. It made Optimus a little sick. “He was given too much.”

Knock-Out nodded, holstering his trident and walking back over. He gestured for Optimus to hand Starscream over, but Optimus held fast. Rolling his optics, the medic scanned Starscream for diagnostics. “I’d assume so. Maybe he asked for more. I don’t know.”

“Why would he ask for this?” Optimus wondered out loud.

Knock-Out grinned sadly. “Because that’s what addiction does, Optimus.”

Optimus looked down at Starscream, panic in his eyes. “Will he wake up?”

“I’ll take him back to base, fix him up, try to detoxify his system. He’ll wake up, but he’ll wake up sober. Not sure how happy he’ll be about that.” Optimus reflexively gave Starscream a gentle squeeze, pulling him into his chassis. Knock-Out raised a brow-ridge. “You care for him.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about!” Optimus protested.

“No point denying it, sweet-struts.” The medic purred. His usual flirtatious demeanour dropped. “I won’t tell anyone. Between you and me, he needs someone to give a slag.”

“We’re enemies.”

Knock-Out shrugged. “Love is love, big guy. But...” he sighed. “I see your point. Can I take him?”

Optimus reluctantly passed Starscream over to the medic. Knock-Out didn’t hold his friend as gently as Optimus did, possibly because they were closer to the same height than he was, perhaps because he didn’t hold the same feelings in his spark. Knock-Out tapped on Starscream’s optic, and then placed a digit into the wiring around Starscream’s neck. His eyes glowed as he started a scan. Optimus waited for the scan to finish with bated breath. “He needs detoxification, but he’ll live. He shouldn’t have any permanent damage.”

“Good,” Optimus exhaled, “that is very good.”

“I need to get him back to the Nemesis, though.” Knock-Out sighed. “Megatron is not going to be happy.”

Optimus’s face-plate shifted. He’d heard those rumours too. He’d heard that Megatron was...romantically involved with his second-in-command. He couldn’t imagine doing such things with Jazz, though he wasn’t an unattractive mech. It wasn’t proper conduct for a leader, in his mind. That wasn’t the part he objected to the most, however. He’d also heard the rumour that Megatron was harder on Starscream than any of his other soldiers, and not because he wanted to avoid allegations of favouritism. He’d heard that Starscream could scarcely breathe wrong without being beaten to a pile of scrap. Knock-Out noticed this. “I don’t know what you’ve heard...”

“It is not my business. It is only another example of Megatron’s cruelty, should the rumours be proven correct.”

“Fair enough.” Knock-Out tapped his audial, activating his communicator. “I need a bridge for two. No,” he looked at Optimus, “I won’t be followed.” Optimus took the hint and transformed, preparing to roll out back to his home-base. “Wait,” Knock-Out called out.

“Yes?” Optimus turned around, remaining in truck form.

“If he asks, what do you want me to tell him?”

Optimus thought for a moment or two. “That the Autobots took pity on him.”

“Not the truth?”

“Do you think that would benefit him?” Optimus asked. He knew Megatron, and he knew Megatron well. He was a jealous mech. Another suitor, even an unrequited one, would make Starscream’s life much more difficult.

“No, I suppose not. You’re a bigger mech than me, Prime.” Knock-Out said sadly.

 _If only that were true,_ Optimus thought, speeding away into the cool Cybertronian night.

#

Starscream’s helm was pounding. It felt like he’d had a virus uploaded directly into his CPU, and that he was never going to find equilibrium again, like that part of his programming had been permanently deleted.

“Starscream,” KO called gently, “Star.”

He didn’t want to online, neither his optics nor his consciousness. He already knew that the light of the med bay, dim as it was, would make his optics ache. Still, he couldn't stay under forever. He slowly powered his optics back up, taking in the sights around him with his pounding helm-ache. Thankfully, he was alone in the med-bay, with only the usual staff for company. Knock-Out was beside him, taking his vitals, and he could faintly make out Breakdown in the corner of the room, re-organizing and taking inventory of the supplies. Knock-Out must have finally done...the thing that should not be named, to finally get Breakdown to do this task that KO had been nagging him to do for months. He’d rather not think about that. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I was pulverized by Optimus Prime himself.” KO made a face at the mention of the Autobot commander. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” KO said, turning to his chart.

Curious, but not important. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, obviously.” Starscream scoffed.

“Not surprising,” Breakdown piped up, “since you were high as the sky the whole fight.”

KO walked across the room to swat Breakdown with his reinforced data-pad. “I told you not to mention that!”

Breakdown didn’t wince or move in the onslaught. “Well, he was. I ain’t protecting his feelings. He doesn’t want people to say he was high, he shouldn’t have taken an aft-load of dark energon and flew into battle.”

“That’s not the point! We’ve been practising bedside manner, remember?”

“Oh. Right.” Breakdown had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome,” Knock-Out muttered, going back to his patient. “He’s right, though. You’re here because you overdosed on dark energon.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” It didn’t make sense. Megatron used more of it than he did, and he seemed to be constantly under its influence. He was fine. Starscream could handle it. He wasn’t weak. He didn’t need it, but he was fine.

“Well, apparently there’s a limit to how much dark energon the Cybertronian internal systems can process, and we found out that was possible today. How wonderful.” KO rolled his eyes.

“I could do without the sass.”

“And I could do without watching you almost die every other cyber-week!” Knock-Out snapped. Starscream looked at the floor. “Nothing to say? Aren’t you going to snap at me, and tell me I’m wrong?”

“I can’t. You’re right.”

“I’m...right?”

“How hard did he hit his helm? I think he scrambled his CPU.” Breakdown wondered.

“Oh, can it! I’ve been taking a lot of risks lately,” Starscream continued, ignoring Breakdown’s comments. “I’ve been trying to help the cause, but...”

“But you’ve been taking more and more dark energon because our leader asks it of you.”

“He doesn’t ask.”

“No, he feeds it to you, to make sure you do what he wants.”

Starscream shrugged. “He thinks I need it. I agree.”

“Why, in Primus’s name, would you agree with him?!”

“He thinks I’ve been distracted, and that I haven’t been fully participating in the Decepticon war machine. I see his point. I’ve been....a little lost since my squadron passed on. I haven’t been the best air commander I can be, and I need to refocus on the cause.”

“The cause isn’t worth your life,” Knock-Out said simply.

“The cause _is_ my life now,” Starscream said quietly.

“Then you need to stop, for the cause. You’ve only gotten worse at leading, with the dark energon. You don’t give orders, you just charge in and start attacking Autobots before your fleet completes recon.” Knock-Out pulled something out of Starscream’s line, earning a wince. He was rougher than he had to be, and Starscream knew that. “You’re going to destroy yourself, and your armada, if you keep this up.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Starscream admitted. He ran his own diagnostic scan. He was drained. His energon reserves were dipping dangerously low, and his pistons and wiring were starting to fray. His frame was self-destructing, but it still called out for dark energon. He wanted more, even waking from his overdose. “Megatron won’t let me.”

“I’ll make him,” KO growled. “If you’re here, there’s going to be an influx of overdosing patients. We’re going to use up what few resources we have left keeping them alive, and it’s avoidable.”

“It’s not Decepticon, is what it is.” Breakdown piped up. “We take care of our own by carefully divvying out resources, not burning through them like they’re infinite.”

Starscream stared at Breakdown in shock. “I didn’t know you’d read the manifesto. I wasn’t even aware you could read.”

Breakdown’s teeth grinding could be heard clearly on the other side of the room. “I can, in fact, read, and I’ve read the D-con manifesto _twice_.”

“Then I can’t argue with your assertion. It doesn’t make sense.” Starscream tried to stand, forcibly tearing something out of his lines. “I’ll mention it to him. If both the chief medical officer and the second in command bring it up, perhaps he will listen.”

“We can only hope,” KO said, running over and wiping energon off his legs.

Starscream wobbled to the door. He would talk to Megatron after a long recharge in his room. Before he left, however, a thought came to his mind. “Knock-Out?”

“Yeah?”

“Did...did Optimus Prime actually help me, or did I imagine that?”

Knock-Out was quiet for a moment. “He did,” the medic said. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Starscream continued to his quarters, heavy with emotions and questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interlude is heavily inspired by the song "Addict" by Silva Hound and Michael Kovak from the show "Hazbin Hotel". Hate the show, love the show, doesn't matter, the song is an absolute BOP. Angel's energy reminds me a lot of good ol' Screamer, and thus this interlude was born. When I heard the song, I was reminded of how the mechs in the show reacted to dark energon, especially Megatron when he took it for the first time, and how Starscream was a little afraid of Megatron's enjoyment of the substance. I used to work with people living with addiction, and I have my own struggles, so some of the scenes with dark energon really hit home for me and it was cathartic to write this. So, thank you for reading my catharsis? XD
> 
> This wasn't originally a planned interlude, but I kind of enjoyed it and I thought it would be fun to see Starscream during the war (by the loosest definition of fun) and see a few snippets of the beginning and development of Optimus's little crush. And I wanted to write Breakdown and Knock-Out together. They were so cute. ❤️
> 
> I want to say again how thankful I am for all the support and love this fic has gotten. You're all beautiful humans. ❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	17. Belonging and Beloved: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INTERLUDE: Starscream gets to spike Optimus. That's it, that's the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Explicit (completely consensual) sex, referenced abuse

BELOVED AND BELONGING: AN INTERLUDE

Starscream's sensors registered the Nevada air as humid but warm, but his systems were overheating as he streaked across the night sky. He didn't need a map anymore. He knew where he was flying better than he knew the route to his own quarters. He knew every landmark along the way, every rock, every tree, even the exact place where the desert slowly gave way to the forest, the deep tan of the sand slowly becoming browner, darkening, little shoots of green emerging from the ground as the soil became fertile once again. Better yet, he knew what was waiting for him when he arrived.

His whole frame trembled as he flew. He scanned the area again for any Cybertronian energy signals, any human satellites, even any telecommunication signals that hinted to surveillance. Nothing. Every time he scanned, nothing. The sky was clear, without even a cloud in the way of his journey to Optimus. Scanning the area used energy he wanted to save for his lover, but nothing else calmed him down. After all this time, he was still nervous about his clandestine activities. He knew too well what would happen if he were caught. Even if Xal was merciful and the Autobots caught them instead of Megatron, he would still walk away with a few new holes.

Starscream circled the preordained area twice before transforming and landing, excitement coursing through his lines along with the fear _._ He knew, logically, that he hadn't been followed, but he was still paranoid. These..."meetings" were his little secret. More than that, they were often the only source of calm in the chaos that was life under Megatron’s cruel reign.

He walked briskly through the trees, humming a happy tune to himself. Starscream had an extra pep in his step that he could only hope no one else noticed. His fans were already kicking in, the thought of what he’d come here to do sending heat coursing through his frame. Something else, a feeling a little less familiar, sloshed in his tanks as well. He tried to ignore those feelings as best he could, but they continued to make themselves known. Even when he was on the Nemesis, they consumed his every online thought. Starscream sighed. He couldn't deny it anymore. He hadn’t been coming here just for amazing interfacing and overloads for a while. He wanted to see--

“Star? Are you alright, my spark?”

Starscream smiled before he even saw his darling Prime. _Optimus. As observant as ever,_ he thought, pushing through the trees towards the sound of Optimus’s voice. He entered the clearing, finding his lover relaxing against a tree and watching him expectantly. He looked freshly polished and gleamed in the moonlight. Starscream would have swooned, had he not had the pride to avoid such displays. “Of course. Never better.” Starscream walked through the grass and sat beside Optimus, looking up at the sky. It was slightly cloudy, with patches of stars hidden beneath thick grey clouds. Optimus wrapped a huge arm around his shoulders and Starscream purred, leaning into the touch. These were some of the seeker’s favourite moments, the ones where they just sat together and enjoyed their companionship. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Ever. “I’m happy to see you.”

“And I, you.” Optimus’s voice rumbled, sending all sorts of tingling through Starscream’s frame. The bigger mech rubbed his shoulder gently as he spoke, sending pleasure up and down Starscream’s wires. “I look forward to seeing you. It is the high point of my solar cycle.”

“You do now?” Starscream purred, facing his lover. “How romantic.”

“Why would I not? You are very precious to me.” Optimus grabbed Starscream’s servo and gave it a gentle kiss. “I was worried about you. After the mission, and the battle that followed...”

“We agreed, a long time ago, that we wouldn't talk about such things here," Starscream warned. He crossed his arms. He did not want to think about his supposed Lord here. He did not want Megatron's corruption to reach the only good thing in his life.

“Am I not allowed to be concerned when I hear Megatron screech your name in that awful way he--”

“He left me alone, this time.” Starscream quickly interrupted. “I was a little shocked, admittedly. But I explained to him that the loss wasn’t my fault and he believed me. Having Breakdown there to shift some of the blame onto helped.”

“Starscream, are you saying...I certainly hope...”

“He didn't get punished," Starscream said quietly. “If he got the same treatment I do, no one would get repaired for deca-cycles. KO usually puts his foot down when it comes to his beau. Once, Megatron screamed at Knock-Out for refusing to re-calibrate one of his knee-joints. KO was angry that my dear leader broke Breakdown's pinky. By accident. KO eventually fixed it but repaired it completely wrong. It was hilarious to watch the great Decepticon leader's knee give out and see him face-plate without warning." Starscream chuckled at the look between horror and humour on Optimus's face-plate. "If competent medics weren't in such short supply...Megatron will probably just make Breakdown clean something. Besides, if someone gets physically punished for something, it’s me.” Starscream laughed bitterly. “That hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it ever will.”

Optimus held Starscream tighter. “I hate him.”

“As do I.” Starscream sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore." He nosed into Optimus's neck cables, kissing and nipping at the metal there. "I don't want to talk at all. If you know what I mean."

“Starscream,” Optimus chuckled. “Always so impatient.”

“Can you blame me?” Starscream murmured into his lover’s audial. “Have you ever looked into any reflective surface? You’re enough to get anyone’s motor running, my spark. I’m just the lucky mech who gets to take you for a ride.”

Optimus turned Starscream's head towards him for a long kiss. "I could say the same of you," Optimus said, starting to push Starscream onto his back. That was more like it, Starscream thought, spreading his legs as he felt the leaves touch his wings. He'd been waiting for this, to be covered completely and pleasured thoroughly. Optimus’s company was fine, but this was perfection. Optimus teased the seams of his hips with one servo as he licked into Starscream’s mouth, rubbing at Starscream’s interface panel with the other. Starscream could feel the heat radiating from Optimus’s interface panel. His knees were between Starscream’s, keeping them apart. His lover’s larger frame was grinding into him, almost hard enough to spark. There was a desperation in Optimus's movements. It was like he couldn't get enough. Optimus was usually completely calm and in control, allowing Starscream to direct the pace of their love-making. Now, Starscream felt like he was just being pulled along for the ride, and he didn't find that he could complain either way.

All too soon, Optimus pulled away and looked down at his lover. “I have a...request," Optimus said, his cheeks flushing as he looked away.

Starscream was confused. He’d never seen his lover flustered like this. No, not flustered. He’d seen that before. Embarrassed. He wondered if he was just now finding out about some bizarre fetish his partner had. It would be just his luck. He supposed he could put up with a bit of weirdness for Optimus’s sake, as long as he didn’t have to do anything too strange. “What is it, dear one?”

Optimus cleared his throat. His cheek burned hotter under the palm of Starscream’s servo. “I...I want you to spike me today.”

Starscream froze. He couldn't mean...no, he couldn't. He was just asking for something pleasurable, there was no way he knew the old Vosian courtship ideology or the rituals. It was just something that would feel good to Optimus, but this would change everything for Starscream. It would mean that Optimus belonged fully to him, and he belonged fully to Optimus. It was a social bond in his culture more than anything formal, but it still tugged at his spark. He supposed he could tell Optimus...no, he couldn't do that. Vos was dead. Their traditions, no matter how much they informed his processing, were as dead as the smoking ruins of the city-state. Still, the teachings of the elders of Vos were in his head, telling him that once this was complete, Starscream and Optimus would belong to each other, and what Xal had brought together none could break apart and all that claptrap. _But still,_ he thought, looking at his partner, _I am okay with belonging to him_. Optimus’s optics were downcast and he was gnawing on his lip, but he looked absolutely ravishing. His optics flickered up and locked with Starscream’s. There was lust there, yes, but also more love than Starscream knew what to do with. And warmth. The same warmth he felt for Optimus. It wouldn't be so bad, at least in his head, to belong to this mech. _Yes, this is going to be just fine._ “Are you sure, my spark?”

“It has been a very long time, but it is fair to switch it up every once in a while.” Optimus cleared his throat. “And I...I cannot help but notice how lovely your spike looks in your array. It is quite long, and ribbed. The bio-lights are enchanting. I want to feel it. Inside me. Please?”

Starscream considered it for a moment. He hadn’t spiked anyone for...he couldn't even remember the last time. He’d been in college, he was pretty sure, and completely drunk, before he joined the Decepticons. Megatron, unsurprisingly, refused to let him. When the war was over, he used to say, he’d allow it. He didn’t need rumours coming out that he was being spiked by his second-in-command. It would impact morale. Yeah, right. Megatron probably didn't want to wound his pride. Everyone on the pit-damned ship could hear him screaming in pain and begging Megatron to pull out, and that couldn't be great for morale, either. It didn't matter why, in the long run. He didn’t even bother giving Starscream an explanation for why he did anything these days. It didn’t change the fact that Starscream couldn’t even remember what it felt like to spike someone, let alone the process of preparing his partner. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed. “It’s been a while.”

“I will help you through it," Optimus said, his legs slowly moving apart. He retracted his interface panel, revealing a glistening valve. Starscream's mouth filled with digestive lubricants. "But I have the utmost faith in your abilities."

“As you should. I’m an excellent lover.” Starscream said with a grin that didn’t quite meet his optics.

Optimus gently put a servo on Starscream’s spinal struts, right between his wings, and flipped their positions. Starscream let out a little yelp as he tried to re-balance himself. Optimus laughed at his indignant squawk and rubbed soothing circles into his lover’s hips. “I know. That is why I risk coming to see you. It could not possibly be your winning personality.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a joke or not,” Starscream said, trying to cover his nervousness with his usual snark. “So, because it would be an insult if it wasn’t, I’m going to assume that it is.”

“It is. I love your personality.” Optimus reached up and stroked Starscream’s face-plate. “Do you know where to go from here?”

Starscream nodded. “I think so. Are you sure you want to do this?” He raised a clawed digit. “This might...hurt.”

Optimus's optics widened, but he shook his hem. He brought Starscream's servo to his faceplate, kissing the tip of each clawed digits. “I know you can be gentle. I trust you.” Starscream nearly melted. He started to shake. The trust, the love, the idea of spiking Optimus Prime...it was all too much. His lover let go of his servo briefly to stroke his cheek again, waiting for Starscream to get control before he continued. Once Starscream was calm, Optimus gently guided his digits down to his valve. Once there, he let go, allowing Starscream to touch and explore on his own. Starscream gently touched the outside of the fabled place of pleasure, revelling in how soft it was on this otherwise hard and strong mech. He could even smell the mix of transfluid and ozone leaking off it. Despite his nerves, the seeker was completely intoxicated.

Starscream hadn't had contact with a valve that wasn't his own in millennia, and Optimus's was perfect. It was almost meltingly hot to the touch, and slick and wet where his claws touched the delicate mesh. Once he'd had his fill of the outside, he decided he needed to hurry things along. As much as he wanted to edge Optimus, to bring him to the point of overload, again and again, not allowing him to finish until either he begged for it or Starscream's resolve broke...they didn't have the time right now. Tentatively, he slid one digit in, his intakes hitching at the silkiness of his lover's insides. They were much softer than he'd anticipated and they were smoother. He supposed his own was less smooth because of...the trauma the poor organ had suffered. Optimus's was pristine.

He watched Optimus's face carefully for any trace of pain, but Optimus was relaxed, breathing evenly as he was penetrated. Starscream felt emboldened. He shifted his digit, feeling for the node he knew was there, the one that would help his lover feel good. Grounders had different frames than flyers, but if he could just find it...

“Ah!” Optimus cried out, his entire frame tensing.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Starscream asked, starting to panic. “Do you need me to stop!?” To his surprise, Optimus only chuckled.

“If you stop now I will be most upset.” Optimus laughed. “I think you found my inner node.”

That...was a relief. Starscream thought he’d slashed the poor node open, from the way Optimus reacted. “Hmm. You mean here?" He teased, pressing against the spot again. Optimus shook, more lubricant sliding down Starscream's servo, the prime's face discoloured and flushed and his entire frame heating a few more degrees. "Ah, yes. I do believe I've found it." Starscream purred, jabbing the node roughly with one of his digits. Optimus screamed and moaned and writhed as his sweet spot was prodded. His hips started to piston, almost straining the seeker's wrist as they pressed down, sucking the digit deeper and deeper. His callipers squeezed down, tighter than anything that Starscream had ever imagined. Starscream felt his spike engorging at the sight. He retracted his panel, allowing his spike to come free. Optimus's breath hitched at the sight of it, spurring Starscream on more. He couldn't remember anyone ever reacting to his spike like that. It was almost enough to make a mech feel special.

Optimus started to thrust down faster, driving Starscream’s digit into his inner node, moaning and biting his lip and letting out little puffing pants. Starscream felt an intoxicating sense of power, watching the mighty leader of the Autobots frag himself on his digit. He pulled out his digit, smirking at Optimus’s whine, and slid two back in. Still gentle, despite Optimus’s insistence on being able to handle it, but he started to scissor his digits to further prep his lover. He tried his best to reach the node, but it was difficult to focus on hitting the node and preparing Optimus at the same time. Optimus didn’t seem to mind. He watched Starscream’s digits slide in and out, moaning at the sight, looking up at Starscream with satisfied, happy optics. “It feels so good, my darling. My Star.”

“Stop talking, or I won’t be able to finish preparing you.” Starscream chided teasingly.

“I can take it, Starscream. I am not a delicate mech.”

“I know that, but...look, you ask me for my consent constantly. Just...let me do this for my own peace of mind, so I know I won’t hurt you.” _Like Megatron would_ hung in the air between them.

“Alright. But I do not know if I will be able to be silent. I might test your patience.”

“You already do that," Starscream teased, working the third digit in, "by being too perfect."

Optimus tensed. Starscream reached out with his other servo and ran his claws over Optimus’s chassis, scratching lightly. Optimus tensed more, but Starscream was pretty sure that was a good thing. He spread his digits, trying to convince the soft walls to open up for him. He wouldn't be able to get anything in if Optimus wouldn't loosen up more.

He had an idea.

Starscream leaned forward without removing his digits. “Retract your spike panel,” Starscream purred into Optimus’s audial.

“But I...”

“You trust me, right? Just do it." Starscream nipped at the cables in Optimus's neck. Optimus took a shuddering intake and retracted, his spike fully pressurizing and curving upwards. Starscream slowly moved back down, hovering over what was quickly becoming his favourite part of Optimus. He licked a stripe up the side, savouring the feeling of transfluid leaking from the tip. Optimus let out a whine. It was the highest-pitched sound that Starscream had ever heard from the other mech. He loved it. He nibbled up the side and took the whole organ in his mouth, spreading his digits at the same time.

Starscream had been told he had a certain amount of skill at sucking spike. It was by Megatron, so he wasn’t sure exactly how much truth there was to that statement. However, his years of *ahem* sucking up to his leader had paid off. He had never been grateful for anything Megatron had forced him to endure, but being able to relax his throat was coming in handy. It took him a couple of tries, as Optimus was much bigger than he was used to, to get the whole spike down, but it was worth it. The scream Optimus let out was worth the little streams of cleaning fluid forced from his optics. Starscream felt a little twinge of pride. If the Nemesis or the Autobots were alerted by that sound, he could go to his death happy that he was the only one in the universe who could make Optimus Prime feel like this.

Starscream hummed along the spike in his mouth, making Optimus's legs quake and his hips piston upward. Starscream placed a servo on Optimus's hip joint, trying to force him to stay still so he didn't hurt himself while Starscream was trying to open him up. That part was much harder than he'd anticipated. The valve he was working open relaxed as he sucked, using his glossa to lick up little bits of the transfluid leaking from the tip, but every time he did something different or sucked too hard, the valve would tighten up again. He was starting to wonder if he’d be able to get it in, or if he’d have to get himself off. Starscream glanced up, taking in Optimus’s face-plate. His optics were huge, and his intake was open, his glossa hanging out as he panted and moaned. Oh, yes. He’d be able to overload right here if he kept watching Optimus.

Overload. There was an idea.

Starscream sucked hard while jabbing two digits into Optimus's inner node. He could feel the electricity dancing under his tongue, could feel the tension in his partner's frame building, felt every piston and calliper and cable get stiff as charge built up in Optimus's system.

“Starscream,” he warned, “I am close. If you do not stop...”

“Who said anything about stopping?" Starscream purred, giving one hard press to Optimus's inner node.

Optimus was silent as he overloaded, his CPU too fried by the stimulation going through it to allow him to form a coherent thought. Starscream tried to get his mouth back on Optimus to finish him off, but he was too late. Optimus's spike spurted out purple transfluid, some of it landing on Starscream's face-plate, some in his open mouth, and some on his chassis. Starscream coughed, trying to wipe some of it off his face. He caught a glimpse of Optimus and stopped.

Optimus was staring at him with utmost reverence. His fans were kicked into over-drive, trying to cool him down, and Starscream could feel the sheer heat of his engines. “What?” He asked, swallowing down the fluid in his throat.

“You...no one has ever...you are amazing, Star.” Optimus smiled.

“Tell me something I don't know," Starscream said smugly, pulling his digits out of Optimus's valve. It was finally relaxed enough to spike him. And it was a good thing, too. Starscream wasn't sure he could last much longer. He crawled up Optimus’s body, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips, turning it dirty as Starscream’s soaked form smeared transfluid on the both of them. “Are you ready for me, sweet-spark?”

Optimus moaned against Starscream’s neck. “Primus, yes. Frag me, Starscream. Frag me hard.”

“I could never say no to you." Starscream kissed Optimus's fore-helm and sat back, giving himself a quick tug. He lined himself up with Optimus's valve, taking a deep intake in. He hadn't done this in a while. A long while. He hoped he could satisfy his partner. He also hoped he wouldn't overload immediately upon entering. Optimus reached out and took Starscream's servo, smiling up at him. Starscream saw only love and trust in those optics. Optimus trusted him in this most intimate of acts. He couldn't let him down. Slowly, Starscream pushed in, relishing the way every calliper squeezed his spike until he finally bottomed out.

He looked down at Optimus and squeezed his servo. “How do you feel? I’m sorry, I should have gone slower...”

“No, it is alright.” Optimus took a quick intake. “It feels amazing. You are amazing. How do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest mech in the universe," Starscream said breathily. He was immediately embarrassed, but he had time to lament his masculinity later. Right now, he had a lover to please. “I’m going to move, okay? Let me know if you need me to stop.”

“I will, but that is most unlikely.” Optimus pulled Starscream down for a kiss. “You are perfection, my love.”

Starscream’s frame heated with the word ‘love’, his hips moving on their own accord. The thrust sent pleasure coursing through both of their bodies. Starscream grabbed Optimus’s hips to steady himself, reluctantly letting go of his servo, and started to shallowly thrust in and out. “I can take more, my darling. Do not hold back on my account.”

“Just..." Starscream panted, "just let me feel this out." And it felt incredible. It was so soft, and wet, and tight. The valve he was buried in was leaking out fluid, making the slide in and out sinfully perfect. Starscream pressed against the inner node and Optimus cried out like he was in pain, but Starscream knew he wasn't, not if the discoloration on his cheeks was any indication. Optimus was pushing his hips back on him, trying to will his partner to go faster. “So demanding,” Starscream teased.

“I told you,” Optimus grinned at him, “I want you to frag me hard.”

“Hard? You want it hard?” Starscream steeled his nerves and positioned his hips, ready to deliver. “Of course, dearest Optimus.” He pulled out almost entirely, leaving onto the tip in, and thrust back in quickly, setting his pace as fast and brutal as he could.

It was a little harder to give than it was to receive, given the size difference between them, but Optimus didn't seem to notice. He was eagerly meeting Starscream thrust for thrust, moaning and writhing beneath him. He didn't seem to notice that his writhing was throwing Starscream off rhythm. Starscream didn't care either. Optimus was so tight that he was half-convinced his spike was going to be snapped off, but the friction and the squeeze were divine, the tightness releasing and enclosing with every thrust.

Starscream struck the inner node directly with the tip of his spike and Optimus wailed. “Hard enough for you?” Starscream panted.

“I think you can do better.” Optimus winked at him.

Starscream growled and pulled out. He knew, on some level, that Optimus was teasing him, but he was going to make his lover eat his words. He flipped Optimus onto his chassis, hiked his hips up, and slammed back in without any warning. Optimus let out a small, high-pitched whine, which was the only reprieve he got before Starscream resumed his brutal pace.

Starscream liked this position better for what Optimus wanted, he decided. He couldn't see his lover's face, which was sad, but he could see his spike moving in and out of Optimus's valve, which was sending heat through him he was quickly learning to savour. And, in this position, the size difference was less noticeable and posed less of an issue. He felt like he was going deeper as a result, and hitting the inner node every time. He could go as fast as Optimus wanted, his hips freer to move. And Optimus seemed to be loving it. The Prime had given up decorum to scream his pleasure, alternating between incoherent babbling to calling for Primus and Starscream in equal measure. He was so warm, his engines so heated, that Starscream felt his servos burn where they were gripped into Optimus's hips. Starscream himself was not much better. His charge was building quickly, and he knew he wasn't going to last long. He wanted to make this good for Optimus. He just wanted Optimus to overload first. Partly because of the validation, partly because of the sheer eroticism of watching Optimus overload, and partly so his lover's valve would tighten evermore, giving him a more incredible overload...

Optimus let out one last scream and overloaded, transfluid gushing onto the ground below. That was what Starscream needed. Optimus clenched so tightly that he could barely move, and just pushing in further was enough to overload him. Starscream shook as the charge went through his body, emptying inside his lover with a screeching whine. The electricity of their charges went through both of them, making both overloads stronger, better, and longer. It was like their frequencies were attuned to each other. Starscream had never felt that before. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Starscream stayed like that for a moment, resting on Optimus’s back as he steadied himself. He slowly pulled out, watching some of his transfluid leak out before Optimus shut his valve panel. The seeker had to laugh. It was an odd time to care about propriety, but these little quirks were just part of the many things he loved about Optimus.

There was that word again. He was going to choose to ignore it.

Optimus slowly turned around, looking up at Starscream with a dopey, dreamy face. “Hello, my love.”

He wasn't going to get to ignore it, was he. "Hi." Optimus shifted so he was sitting against the tree again, patting the spot next to him. Starscream laid down, resting his helm in Optimus's lap. He could still smell the ozone and exhaust. He loved it.

“You look a bit messy, my dear one.” Optimus gently pet Starscream’s helm, mindful of his head-fin. “You are covered in fluid, and your spike is still out.”

Starscream depressurized his organ and tucked it back in, shutting his panel over it. “There. Happy?”

“Partly. It was nice to see the usually elegant air commander with a little dirt on his frame.”

“Enjoy it, because you’re the only one who gets to see it.” Starscream huffed. “Was it good for you?”

“It was incredible.” Optimus sighed happily. “And yourself?”

“I could get used to it,” Starscream smirked. Optimus flicked his fin. “Ow! Okay, it was great. I enjoyed it. You felt how hard I overloaded.”

“Yes. It is a relief that I am not a femme, and cannot carry sparklings, or we would certainly be expecting a child soon.” Optimus stroked Starscream’s cheek. “Hmm. I find myself thinking of what you said when we first began this relationship.”

The word “relationship” sent a pleasant tingle through Starscream’s entire frame, starting at his spark. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? He couldn't say they were just fragging anymore. Starscream knew he was an attractive mech. He could get a quick ‘face from whoever he wanted (Megatron wasn’t as observant as he thought he was, he’d never find out), but he chose, time after time, to go to Optimus, despite the risks. He was happy when he was with Optimus. It was getting to the point where he wanted to be with him all the time. As dangerous as that was, he didn’t care. “And what was that? I talk a lot. You may have noticed.”

Optimus laughed. “And I appreciate that! I was speaking of how you said we were fragging to get each other out of our mutual systems.”

Starscream flushed. “I may have said something to that effect, yes.”

“I once agreed, but now I have reconsidered. I do not think I will ever get you out of my system.” Optimus looked down into Starscream’s optics. Starscream looked away. “You do not want to hear the words, do you?”

“No,” Starscream admitted. He hated how tainted ‘love’ was for him. Megatron was to blame, as with everything else wrong in his life. His leader said he loved him, but that was a lie. He knew Optimus loved him, but love could be taken away at any moment. “I know how you feel. You don’t need to tell me.”

“I will not, then.” Optimus’s warmth did not falter. “But know this: I care deeply for you. I cannot get you out of my system, because you have integrated with it. I am afraid to tell you that you are stuck with me for a long time.”

“Oh, how will I ever survive?” Starscream dramatically flopped, putting his servo over his head like a starlet from a holo-film. Optimus chuckled. “I’m okay with that, Prime. I think...I think you’ve integrated with my system as well. Sometimes, you are the only thing that keeps it functioning.” Optimus’s smile would keep Starscream warm for many cold nights on the Nemesis. “I care deeply for you, too.”

“I know you usually leave by this point, but would you mind just sitting with me here?” Optimus asked. “I do not know when we can meet like this again. I cannot tell you why...”

“Then don’t.” Starscream interrupted. “I’ll stay. I might have to jabber at you to stay online, but I’ll stay.”

“I would love nothing more," Optimus said, leaning down for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed my update day twice in a row, but I wanted to make sure this scene was appropriately steamy for you folx before we get right back into the main story. So, uh, here you go. Enjoy it. 
> 
> Starscream topped. Just like I promised. 
> 
> I just want to say again, because wow, holy shit, how thankful I am for all the support and love this fic has gotten. You're all beautiful humans. ❤️❤️
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	18. Chapter Eleven: Rather Waste some Time with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fight with Optimus, Starscream leaves to prove he can find relics by himself and runs into an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Discussions of rape and death
> 
> Chapter title taken from "Blue and Yellow" by The Used (https://youtu.be/5W_lQewmIwI)

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

Rather Waste some time with You

Ratchet waited by the ground bridge with a stretcher ready. He paced in front as the machine stuttered, trying to form a connection to his team’s location through whatever their enemies were using to jam it. Starscream stood out of the way, resisting the urge to bite his claws like a sparkling. Optimus was okay, and he knew that. But he wouldn’t register it until he came through the bridge.

Ratchet cleared his throat, getting Starscream’s attention. The seeker quietly lifted his helm, locking optics with his friend. “This isn’t our fault.”

The use of “our” reassured Starscream. It made him feel less alone. It made him feel no less guilty, but he couldn't verbalize that, not when Ratchet was also trying to reassure himself that the injuries of their comrades were separate from their mission to experiment on energon. He said nothing and simply nodded. Ratchet refocused on the swirling energy forming the ground-bridge, his servos shaking where they gripped the stretcher.

The signal finally stabilized and the bridge opened, Optimus leading the charge through. Starscream took a few steps forward to meet him. He was relieved to see only superficial wounds on his lover’s body. Arcee followed, still shooting as she came through. Bumblebee came through with a limp, carrying Bulkhead, who was almost completely still on his friend’s shoulder. The little scout struggled to carry his friend’s weight. Bright blue energon dripped from a few wounds. He’d live, Starscream could already tell, but he’d have a bit of recovery time ahead of him.

“Star! Get over here and help!” Ratchet snapped. “Take Bulkhead from Bee, and help me get him on this stretcher.”

Starscream didn’t need to be told twice. He ran, faster than what was probably helpful, to the two mechs. He let the smaller mech slide Bulkhead onto his thin shoulder. Bulkhead was on the larger side of the Cybertronian continuum and his mass was hard to carry, especially for his recovering frame. Bumblebee didn’t let Starscream bear the burden alone. Together, they walked their barely conscious friend to the waiting medic. “You’re going to be alright,” Starscream tried to reassure him. “Everything will be fine.” The larger mech groaned in response. Bulkhead’s energon was hot where it dripped on him, sliding down his frame and catching in his wires. It sickened Starscream that he was used to this feeling.

Bulkhead mumbled something that could have been either thanks or help, flopping onto the stretcher. Ratchet started running for the med-bay, ordering Bumblebee to follow. Bumblebee chirped in response and bolted from the room, leaving Starscream, Arcee and Optimus alone. The room went quiet. Starscream finished his walk to Optimus, opening his arms for a hug. Optimus pulled him to his chassis, enveloping his frame and holding him close. Optimus was quiet, his grip tight and bruising. “He’ll be okay,” Starscream soothed. “You all made it back.”

“No thanks to you.” Arcee snapped.

Starscream struggled out of the embrace to face Arcee. “You do _not_ get to blame me for this.”

“Your plan, your responsibility.” Arcee’s optics narrowed. “We almost died out there.”

Starscream considered making a crack about their capabilities as soldiers, but he decided against it. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but everyone who’d ever been on a battlefield knew that no plan survived contact with the enemy. They’d been lucky until now that the plans had remained mostly intact. “How was I supposed to know they had new weapons? I wasn’t exactly around while they were developed.” Starscream crossed his arms. “They knew that you’d have no cover. That’s why they deployed them there. No one died, and you’ll know for next time.”

“No one died? That’s rich, coming from you. You sit here in the base and plan, and relax, and pretend to be a commander, and we’re the ones getting shot!”

Starscream let out a snarl. “I’d be out there with you if I wasn’t still being repaired.”

“No, you would not.” Optimus interrupted. Starscream hissed at him. “You would be a target. Megatron’s loyal soldiers would shoot you down immediately.”

“Maybe he should go out with us. Be a decoy.”

Optimus’s voice rolled like thunder. “Watch your tone, Arcee. No one on my team is a decoy. Everyone is an equal combatant.”

Arcee looked from Optimus to Starscream with one brow-ridge quirked. “Sure.”

Before Optimus could reprimand her, Starscream snapped. “I don’t have to help you. I don’t have to help any of you! I choose to because I have a unique set of skills. If you want, I can just let you bumble around the battlefield and accomplish nothing, as usual!”

“We survived before you, we’ll survive without.” One of Arcee’s servos transformed into a gun, probably unconsciously.

“Enough.” Optimus moved between them, pushing them apart with his massive servos. “It’s true that today was not our best fight, but we all returned. And I am grateful for Starscream’s expertise as a former commander.”

“Emphasis on ‘former’,” Arcee growled. “How’d that work out for you? Are you going to take us out and take over, just like you’ve done a thousand times before? How do we know your plans aren’t just an empty ruse to take us out one by one?”

The energon in Starscream’s lines felt like it was boiling. “When will you get it through your thick helm that I’m not going to betray you?”

“You’re Starscream. No matter what mask you wear, how much you pretend, you’re a traitor to the core. Sooner or later, Optimus will see it, and he’ll finish what Megatron started.”

Starscream lunged, his claws swiping at the air just in front of Arcee’s shocked face. Optimus picked him up and hauled him to the other side of the room, nearly slamming against the wall. “I’ll scratch your optics out!” Starscream shouted, fighting and squirming against the hold. “I’ll make you feel even a fraction of the pain I have! I’ll make you suffer, just like I have! How dare you?! You want to finish what Megatron started? I’ll show you what that means.”

“Starscream,” Optimus snapped, “that is enough!”

“How dare she,” he rasped, his vocalizer almost at threshold. “How dare she!”

“I know, but you cannot kill her.”

“I won’t kill her. I’ll leave her alive. To suffer.”

“Careful,” Optimus warned. “That is dangerous talk. You sound...” Optimus bit his lip.

“Like Megatron,” Arcee finished.

Starscream instantly went limp. Optimus let go, almost as if he was fearful that his grip would hurt the now pliant seeker. Starscream slumped against the wall, looking up at Optimus with tears in his optics. “Is that what you think?”

Realization dawned on Optimus’s face. “No. That is not what I was saying, I am so, so sorry...”

“No. You spoke the truth.” Starscream walked away from both of them, to the ground bridge controls. “You think I’m just like him. After all I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed to be here, you think I could be just as evil as the mech who tried to kill me.” He crossed his arms behind his back, looking at Optimus’s pained face and Arcee’s still angry one. He walked to the console without breaking optic contact. He typed some coordinates into the computer. He’d show them. He’d show them how useful he could be, how loyal he could be. “Perhaps you should just kill me now. Prevent the next tyrant.”

“What are you doing?” Optimus started walking towards him with his servos up, palms open, like he suspected Starscream would do something to hurt him, or himself. “Starscream, step away from the computer. We can talk about this.”

“He’s probably bridging in his ‘Con buddies.” Arcee transformed her other servo into a gun. “Permission to shoot?”

“No!” Optimus snapped. He turned back to Starscream. “You know I do not think that you act like Megatron. Please, stay.”

“Am I a prisoner now? Am I not allowed to leave at my own volition?”

“Think about what you are doing!” Optimus pleaded. “Where are you going? You could get hurt, or seen, or worse! Please, Starscream. You are still injured!

“And I am still a seeker.” He pressed the button that activated the ground bridge. “So I will seek.”

The ground bridge activated. Optimus tried to block him and tried to get between Starscream and the bridge, but Starscream ducked under his arm, his helm fin smacking against the hard metal. It stung, but it did not deter him. He would prove his worth to those miserable slaggers when he came back with a relic. Then the whole team of Autobots would be forced to recognize him as an equal.

The sight of Optimus’s face pinched with genuine pain, almost made him turn around. But, if he returned with the relic, it would make his lover’s life easier too. He’d stop having to deal with the derision from his teammates and could focus on his own mission. He turned away and walked through the ground bridge.

Optimus reached for Starscream, even knowing he was gone. The only sound in the room was Arcee’s intakes. He slowly turned, meeting her optics. He fought to stamp down the anger in his spark, the kind of anger that heated your engine and made electricity course through your lines. “That was uncalled for, soldier.”

Arcee scoffed. “I was only...”

“No.” Optimus raised a shaking servo, vibrating with anger. “You were angry, and you were taking it out on Starscream. His plan failed, but that is not his fault. You know that. You had no right to say what you did.”

“Come on, boss bot. I know it was a little bit rude, but...”

“Ratchet still has Starscream on psychiatric watch.” Optimus optics narrowed. “His mental health is touch and go at best. He is still at risk of psychological harm from his ordeal. What you said to him was not acceptable.”

Arcee grit her denta. “He was a ‘ _con_ , Optimus. He killed my partner. I won’t let him take any more of my family...” She started to rant, waving her servos in the air, her speech getting louder and more curse-filled, and higher-pitched...

Optimus interrupted her. “Ignoring that he has been trying very hard to atone for that, you also insulted me, though you may not realize it.” Arcee went quiet. “I would never kill Starscream. I will not lower myself to kill Megatron, my most hated enemy. To imply that I would ‘finish what Megatron started’ is insulting beyond belief. Even if he did betray us, I would not kill someone I love.”

“I’m sorry,” Arcee whispered, looking away. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“But you did mean to insult Starscream,” Optimus stated. Arcee said nothing. Her optics remained glued to the floor. “I will not choose between one of my loyal soldiers and my lover, but if you continue to take out your aggression on him when he has done nothing to earn it, I will not hesitate to discipline you as your commander. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” Arcee looked sadly at the floor. “Crystal clear.”

“And I will deal with what Starscream said to you myself,” Optimus added. Arcee lifted her helm. “He cannot respond with aggression towards my soldiers either.”

Arcee nodded. “Understood.”

Optimus felt suddenly tired. He wanted to be alone, to contemplate the way forward. “You’re dismissed.” Arcee left the room without another word, leaving Optimus alone with his thoughts.

Starscream fought back the urge to scream in frustration as he stomped out of the portal. He was an idiot. He’d ripped a stitch in his side, and he was risking a massive bleed. He couldn’t fly back. He couldn’t very well walk back, either. If any Decepticons were there, he was pretty well slagged. And he wasn’t used to the sensation of travelling through the bridge. His wounds ached, making his walk towards the massive warehouse that, according to their readings, potentially contained a Cybertronian relic. It also could contain nothing but empty shipping crates and a startled security guard. Starscream stopped walking and stared up at the sky. Why was he here? He didn’t need to prove anything to Optimus. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, he told himself. Then he chuckled. _Funny,_ he thought. _I’ve become so used to lying that I’m trying to trick myself_.

He looked at the warehouse in the near distance. There were lights on, but a quick scan told him that the building was empty of life. He walked towards it. He couldn't transform, so if any humans caught him, he was in trouble. _But,_ he reassured himself, _if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s getting out of trouble_.

He bent with some issue to open the massive garage door to get into the warehouse. He scanned the room again, looking for Cybertronian signals. The thick Earth metal was messing with some of his sensors, but there was something extraterrestrial in the massive space. He just had to look.

Starscream wandered through tarp coloured vehicles and massive shipping crates. He cut most of the hinges easily with his claws, checking each carefully. He wasn’t sure how big this relic would be. It was rumoured to be very powerful, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it would be large. It could be palm-sized, so he scanned each crate with both his optics and his scanners. He wouldn’t go back empty servoed. He wouldn’t prove Arcee right.

But she didn’t think he was useless, did she? That was all a concoction of his own internal programming. She thought he was a traitor. He thought he would be abandoned if he couldn't prove his worth, and was desperate to seem competent. Why, after all, would he help those he was planning to, as they said on Vos, stab them between the wings? Did it work for him before? He couldn't say. Perhaps it kept him alive, perhaps it didn’t. One couldn't tell with Megatron.

He eyed a crate hopefully, lifting it a bit to see if he could get a good look inside. It was heavier than the other ones, and his sensors were going crazy. If it wasn’t this one, it would be nearby. It had to be. The door stuck after he cut through the hinges. He braced himself with one pede on the side of the crate and pulling with his entire svelte body. The door would not budge. His frame simply lacked the power to open it. It must have been reinforced, hinting further to the cargo within. Starscream muted his sensors temporarily and let go, glaring at his steel opponent. He grit his denta and gripped the door again, cursing his maker, the Autobots, and everyone and anyone responsible for his current situation. He could lift a boulder, he could open a pit-spawned door. If he ripped his stitches, Ratchet would kill him, but he was too close to give up.

Something groaned. Starscream thought it was the metal, but the door remained stubbornly in place. He focused his audials. Someone was opening the garage door with their servos. He let go of the door and bolted for a stack of crates, ducking behind them and hoping the metal would keep him from being sensed as it had for the relic.

He heard someone humming a familiar tune. He’d heard it so much when he was on the Nemesis that he’d gotten sick of it, but hearing it now made his spark sing with hope. He peered out over the top of his hiding spot. He saw a familiar red paint job, one that used to herald the arrival of the only friendly face on the entire ship.

Knock Out was sauntering through the warehouse, humming his tune, twirling his trident. As happy as Starscream was to see him, he had to stay hidden. His processor whirred. He’d have to either take Knock Out out or leave without the relic. His dramatic exit would be pointless if he didn’t come back with SOMETHING, but he wasn’t sure if he could take out his old friend, injured as he was. He could shoot him in the back. He’d certainly done that before, mostly to Vehicons (or Megatron). KO deserved better than that. But fighting him face to face caused more problems than it solved.

The creaking of the metal snapped him out of his thoughts. _Of course, Knock Out would be able to open it easily. Ground forms. It’s not fair._ He rolled his optics and peeked out again.

Knock Out was hunched over the massive glass case. The warehouse’s sparse walls were illuminated by the light radiating from the relic within. He’d been right. Starscream remained hidden behind the stacked crates, peering out from the corner. Knock Out raised the thing over his helm, openly admiring the craftsmanship. “How does it work?” The medic whispered, turning it over with some difficulty. “Doesn’t matter. I can figure that out later.”

To Starscream’s surprise, KO didn’t call for a ground-bridge. He tried to wrap the relic in some of the nearby tarps, sending dust flying into the air. Starscream coughed as the foul mist entered his air filtration system. It was foul. How the other mech could stand it was anyone’s guess.

“Hello?”

Starscream flattened himself to the back of the crates, trying to hold in his coughing. His attempts rattled the metal shielding him. “Who’s there?” The sound of KO’s trident charging filled the room. “Come out, little Autobot. I know you’re there. Come out and I’ll consider letting you leave alive.”

Weighing his options, Starscream decided it would be better to just come out rather than risk being speared. Again. He’d just finished recovering from that particular wound. If KO didn’t kill him, Ratchet would when he got back to the base. He stepped out carefully, raising his servos in a gesture of surrender. “No Autobots here, unfortunately.”

KO’s optics widened, his grip on his trident failing him and sending the weapon clattering to the floor. He raised his servo to his mouth, covering gasping breaths. “It worked,” He panted, “it worked.”

“What worked?” Starscream cocked his helm. “I’m a little lost, though I’m glad I didn’t have to order you to drop your weapon. How weird would that have been?”

“You’re...what do you mean, it worked?! You’re alive! The relic really worked, it brought your soul back! Now we just need to find your body, and you can rejoin the land of the living!” KO smiled in delight. “Yes! Yes! I can see him again!”

Now Starscream had another dilemma. Did he pretend to be a ghost, or did he admit the truth? What would Optimus do? Make a grand speech about loyalty, probably, and that didn’t fit this situation. But, he had to admit, Optimus wouldn’t lie. He’d tell him the whole truth, the full truth, leaving nothing out. No, he couldn't lie to his friend, the one mech he could trust on the Nemesis. And if he thought it worked for Starscream, and not for who the seeker guessed he meant it for, would break his spark. “Yes, I am alive. But I was never dead. I’m not a ghost.”

Knock Out zipped over, prodding at him with his digits, earning a wince or a squeak at certain wires. The medic let out a pained, regretful sigh. “You _are_ alive.” His optics travelled up Starscream’s body. “I should have guessed, given your face-plate.”

“I’m a little uglier than when we last saw each other, true.”

“A little uglier?! Half your face-plate is gone!”

“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.” Starscream rolled his optics.

“I thought...we all think you’re dead. I saw you fall. I saw you crash. Megatron made me clean up the room he eviscerated you in. I’m still wiping the energon off my servos in my sleep.” KO suddenly grabbed Starscream’s servos. “Tell me everything.”

“No.” Starscream tried to pull his servo back, but Knock Out’s grip was too strong. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m not supposed to leave the base.”

“Base?”

“Uh...”

“Tell me everything,” KO repeated, “or I tell Megatron you’re still alive.”

“You wouldn’t.” Starscream raised a brow-ridge.

“Maybe, but you can’t take that chance.” KO sank to the ground and patted the spot beside him. “Come hither, my dear. I need to know how a dead mech returned to life.” He reached into his subspace. “And I have high-grade.”

“Well, twist my arm why don’t you.” Starscream sat down, finding a comfortable position. “An actually competent medic was involved.” KO flicked him in the helm-fin. “Fine, alright. After I hit the ground, I thought it was the end. Then I heard someone racing towards me...”

#

“Wow.” Knock Out flopped against the wall behind him. The purple liquid in his cube noisily sloshed, which was typical of bad homemade high-grade. They’d moved somewhere more comfortable after realizing that the tale of Starscream’s miraculous return was going to be a long one. “You really did come back from the dead, didn’t you?”

“I really thought I was going to offline and go to the well of All-Sparks...” KO gave him a look, “fine, the pit.” Starscream murmured, staring into his cube. “But Ratchet did wonders, don’t you think?”

“You look a little beat up, mostly on the wings and face-plate, but otherwise fine. I recognized you, so that’s a testament to his work. You barely looked Cybertronian when Megatron kicked you out of the airlock.” He gave Star a quick once-over. “Ratchet better preserve your looks. It would be a true shame for that beauty to be gone from this world.”

“Enough with the poetry, and the flattery. I’ll have you know I have a partner.”

“Oh yes. The mighty Optimus Prime. Honestly, that’s almost as surprising as your survival. Almost. How did that even happen?”

“I noticed how he looked at me when we clashed on missions, and he’s a very attractive mech. Getting almost buried in that defunct mine getting my miserable aft of a leader out gave me a scare. I’m a son of Vos, and I don’t handle tight spaces well. At all.”

“Gee. I hadn’t noticed.” KO rolled his optics, throwing Starscream's words back at him as usual, sipping his high-grade.

“After that incident,” Starscream continued, flicking Knock Out in the fin, “I encountered him on patrol.”

“Was that after that giant blow-up? I think that was the second one that vorn. Am I remembering that right? I could hear you two screaming from my lab.”

“Where our favourite tyrant slapped me across the room because I told him I didn’t want to frag and that his plans are stupid? Yes, that was that incident. I left for patrol so he wouldn’t beat me. I’d just recovered from the last time, you recall. The ruptured energon filtration valve.”

“How could I forget. Primus, that was a painful fix.” KO shook his helm. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Breakdown. I couldn’t hold that hose still enough to drain some of the half-digested sludge out. He had to...” Starscream felt a little queasy. It must have shown on his face because Knock Out changed his tune. “It doesn’t matter. Continue.”

“While I was patrolling, I encountered Optimus, also on patrol. I engaged. We fought. I realized that neither of us was aiming to hit. I landed. We argued. I wanted to feel alive, so I accused Optimus of being secretly in love with me.”

“And he didn’t shoot you?”

Starscream laughed. “Turns out I was right. Optimus got very flustered and started going on about how I was so elegant and beautiful. I suggested that he frag me, get it out of his system, and go back to being enemies. Optimus agreed. I kissed him. It was like something exploded in my spark. So we fragged on the ground like mechanimals.”

“I take it was good.”

“It was incredible. Best I’d ever had, at the time. We’ve had better since, but that’s not important. When we were done, I asked him if it was out of his system. He said no, that it might take a few more times to really get it out. I wasn’t opposed to the idea and I suppose it just...went from there. The more time we spent together, the less time we spent interfacing and the more time we spent talking, and sharing. And...I fell in love. So did he, apparently.”

“I don’t blame you. He’s incredible. And you’re not so bad yourself. Still surprised, though. I always thought our two factions were too dramatically opposed to allow that kind of relationship.”

“It surprised me too, the first time, that he’d actually agree to a quick frag. It surprised me more when he wanted something deeper. But now...I think I’m used to it. I don’t online surprised that he’s next to me. It feels good to be cuddled. I’ve never had that before. I’m just...happy.”

“That’s nice, isn’t it? Those little things. I miss cuddling.”

“Breakdown liked to cuddle?” That was surprising. He doubted the large former wrecker wasn’t capable of doing anything gently. He couldn’t even knock on a door without denting it.

“Loved to cuddle. Adored it. He liked to wrap his whole body around me. He liked knowing that he was keeping me safe.” KO wrapped his arms around himself, giving himself a hug. “That’s why I’m here. I heard that thing could bring back dead Cybertronians. I was going to use it to bring Breakdown back.”

Starscream understood. “He was your conjux endura.”

“Yes. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You didn’t have to.”

KO chuckled sadly. “We were together before the war, and he left me to join the wreckers. It was devastating. I couldn’t believe that he’d leave like that. I swore I’d never speak to him again. When he returned, I almost didn’t take him back. But I couldn’t live without him, and he went out of his way to win me back. He even wrote me poetry. Bad poetry, the worst ever written, but still. We resumed our relationship and never left each other’s side. We joined the Decepticons together. I thought we’d be together forever. When he came back from the wreckers, I made him promise he’d never leave me again. I wish he could have kept his word.”

“I know he wanted to.” Starscream placed his servo over Knock Out’s. “I know he loved you.”

“I wanted to bring him back, but...I don’t know. What if he’s not the same? Would that be better than nothing? I suppose I should at least try.” Knock Out leaned his helm against Starscream’s shoulder. “You’re so lucky. You have your handsome mech, your conjux endura. I’ll just have to live through you.”

Starscream blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“You two risked your own lives for each other. That’s not a thing that two mechs having a fling do.” KO sighed. “You’re hopeless, Screamer. I would make that mine as soon as I could.”

“Eventually, perhaps. The Vos way of doing things is different. We have ceremonies and pomp to deal with.”

“And you’d do that? Vos is gone.”

“It isn’t.” Starscream snapped. KO looked genuinely wounded. He softened. “Optimus tells me that Vos isn’t dead as long as someone remembers the culture, and the language, and if any of our people survive. I can still speak my mother tongue. I can still read our stories. Vos lives in any of us left, and it lives in me.”

“That’s a good way to look at it. Me? I don’t miss Velocitron. I was fine there, sure. But Breakdown was unusually slow for a Velocitrinian, and they never let him forget it. Frag ‘em. He was good at other things. He was just big, that’s all. I like them big. I don’t mind slow.”

“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but...”

“He had a lot of emotional intelligence. He was a very kind mech when he wanted to be. You’d be surprised at what he picked up.”

“We weren’t close, but I found him a stable, loyal, devoted mech. A worthy conjux endura.”

“Thanks.”

“So.” Knock Out passed Starscream a cube. “You have a type.”

Starscream nearly spit out his high-grade, the liquid instead catching in his throat. He coughed violently and pounded on his chassis, forcing it one way or the other. His esophageal flap opened and the high grade went into his digestion chamber, but it took him a moment to regain composure. “Excuse me?”

“You have a type of mech you’re attracted to. Primus, I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.” Knock Out rolled his optics. “You seem to like mechs you are bigger than you, with wide-shouldered frames and big arms. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. That’s my type too.”

Starscream had never really considered it, but once the idea was in his processor....“Oh Xal, it’s true. It’s true! I really am hopeless!”

“Knew it!” Knock Out punched him in the shoulder. “I knew there was a reason we were friends!”

“How shallow. I always thought we were friends because you were the only person worth talking to on the Nemesis.”

“I’m touched, really.” KO preened. “But in all seriousness, you got a massive upgrade. Optimus is ten times hotter than...”

“Don’t say his name,” Starscream hissed. “Please.”

“Than your last lover.” KO finished.

“Thank you. And he’s one hundred times hotter. His spike is bigger too.” Starscream realized what he said too late after Knock Out started laughing hysterically. “If you repeat that, I’ll kill you!”

“You won’t. You love me too much.” KO stroked Starscream’s arm. The seeker pushed him off as his friend laughed hysterically. “But don’t worry. It’ll give me sick, sick pleasure when my wonderful leader tells me to do something tedious, pointless and ultimately frustrating.” KO groaned. “I don’t know why I’m even there half the time. He gives me enough materials for my experiments, I suppose, but I can’t scrub the hallway again. We should have grunts for that. I’m a medic. I’m skilled, Primus damn it!”

“Ish. I almost bled internally because you didn’t see how deep an injury was.”

“Okay, so mostly skilled. In all fairness, I wasn’t given the parts to fix the scanner. Which all makes sense now because the bot getting injured most of the time was...”

“Me. And why would he care that I recovered? A hole is a hole, no matter how much it bleeds.”

KO bit his lip. “Knock Out?” Starscream asked. “What is it?”

“I knew.”

Starscream looked away. “Oh.”

“How could I not? I patched you up, every single time. He’d either tell me that you wanted it or he wouldn’t say a word. You’d tell me it was consensual, or to shut the frag up, mind my own business. I didn’t believe you. I’ve had all kinds of interface, but none of it left me like that. I should have done something, anything, I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

“Don’t.” Starscream grabbed Knock Out’s servos, pulling him in close, so he could look his friend in the optics. “Look at me. What do you see?”

“My own failure,” Knock Out whined, close to tears.

“Did you beat me unconscious?”

“No.”

“Did you stab me?”

“No.”

“Were you the one who forced me to my knees, or onto a floor, or a berth, and took what you wanted?”

“No!”

“Then you are not to blame for this.” Starscream looked deep into his optics, seeing himself reflected clearly in the red surface. He looked determined and calm, and kind. Maybe this was what he was always supposed to look like. “I don’t hold you responsible. Who knows what he would have done to you if you even mentioned it? You fixed me up as best you could, and I appreciate it. But you didn’t do this. This isn’t your fault.”

Knock Out went very, very quiet for the first time in all their cycles of working together. “Thank you.”

Starscream let go of his servos. They shared a moment of companionable silence. “I know I don’t have to ask this, but...”

“I won’t tell him you’re alive. You know that my loyalty lies with my friends and family more than the Decepticon cause. Also...it’s going to be so satisfying to see his face when he figures it out for himself.” Knock Out smiled evilly, with mirth Starscream wasn’t sure he could muster. Knock Out would be the target of Megatron’s fury if he ever found out. But he was right. The look of confusion and fury would be pretty funny.

If they could get out of the way immediately after.

Knock Out shouldered the relic, nodded to Starscream, and walked out through the garage door he came in for. He transformed and drove off into the night.

Starscream took a deep inhale, swallowed his pride, and commed Optimus. “I’m ready to return.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He asked.

Starscream looked at the open garage door and out into the rocky desert beyond. KO had left two tire marks on the ground outside. He smiled. “In a matter of speaking. Bridge me home.”

Starscream walked gingerly through the ground bridge, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Optimus. He winced on behalf of his lover when he noticed thin lines of energon leaking out of some of the smaller cuts on the seeker’s body. Optimus shut off the bridge once Star was all the way through and darted off to get a blanket from the human’s couch. It was small, but it would work. He stood in front of Starscream, wiping the energon off, smiling down at his lover. “If Ratchet sees this, he’ll kill us both.”

“Hmm. I don’t think he will. He likes me.” Starscream looked everywhere but Optimus. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome.” Optimus tilted Starscream’s helm up, capturing his lips in a kiss. “You frightened me.”

Starscream returned the kiss but pulled back as soon as Optimus’s lips left his. “You insulted me.”

Optimus’s digestion chamber churned. He knew he had. He’d hoped they’d go back to his chambers when Starscream returned and recharge, but Starscream was nothing if not petty. He knew from past encounters that Starscream remembered every slight against him. Ever.

“I did. I am sorry, my spark. I did not mean what I said.”

“Part of you must have,” Starscream countered, “because you said it. You would not have said it if you’d never thought it.”

“I had once thought it. Part of me worried that you would become that, with time.” Starscream refused to meet his optics. His lips quivered and his jaw tensed. Optimus reached for a servo but Starscream would not allow it. “Until we became...intimately acquainted, I assumed violence was all you knew.” Starscream remained quiet. “But then I learned who you were. Who you really were. And that mech was intelligent, and caring in his own way.”

“Thanks.” Starscream rolled his optics.

“I love you.” Optimus stroked Starscream’s cheek. “I know you could never become Megatron. But you can act like him, at times. You want to defend yourself and your honour because you feel it has been taken from you. I do not want to see you become violent for the sake of violence.”

Starscream let out an exhale. “You have a point.” He stepped into Optimus’s field. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“You did not.” Optimus opened his arms for an embrace. Starscream stepped into them, nuzzling into Optimus’s shoulder. Optimus felt his spark pulse within him. His core heated. “I spoke with Arcee. She will be more civil from now on.”

“She doesn’t have to be. I haven’t earned it. It was my plan today, and Bulkhead...”

“Is already out of the infirmary.” Optimus tried to give him a reassuring smile. “He is not back to normal, not yet, but he will be back to playing video games with the kids in no time.”

“That’s good,” Starscream said quietly. “I’ll apologize to Arcee, too. It wasn’t fair of me to react like that. My plan did fail, and her friend did get hurt. I’d react much the same.”

“Sometimes loss is inevitable.” Optimus rubbed Starscream’s back. “Did you ever read the Covenant of Primus?”

“No, I didn’t. I tried to translate it, but my common Cybertronian was terrible at the time.”

“In it, it speaks both of the rising of evil and the triumph of good. The rise of evil means that we will lose some of our battles. It is inevitable.” Optimus recalled the first time he’d read the sacred tome. It filled him with both crushing fear and soaring hope. He’d been so young then, blind to the reality of conflict. Still, he held onto that feeling as he commanded his army. He had to be prepared for both. “I do not blame you. When they all have had time to think, they will not either.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Starscream looked deeply into Optimus’s optics. I’ve been thinking...in Vos, we had a ceremony. It was a forgiveness ceremony. Perhaps, if I perform it, in front of them, I can show them just how serious I am about wanting to atone.”

“I approve of that, my spark,” Starscream looked a little sick, and Optimus wondered what he’d just approved of. It was religious. It couldn't be that bad, right? “I think that will be a valuable experience for us all.” Optimus kissed the top of Starscream’s helm. “I do not think any of our cultures have something like that. Arcee, perhaps. She was raised in Kaon, though she has been nomadic for most of her life.”

“Kaon? Really? I was there for cycles and I didn’t really experience religion.”

“I know that some of the gladiators had their own form of religion, centred on honour and battle and so forth. Their church of Primus was very ritualistic even topside. They had many ceremonies like that. I only hope the rest of the team understands the seriousness of the ritual.”

 _That explain_ _s_ _some of Megatron’s tendencies._ Starscream’s lips quirked into a grin. _But no one does rituals like Vos_. “They’d better, or my next plan will be purposefully tedious.”

“Oh Star,” Optimus groaned, giving his love a tight squeeze, “what will I do with you?”

“Take me to your berth?” Starscream offered. Optimus looked into his optics. Starscream’s face was open, his optics wide with something between whimsy and lust. His smile offered much the same. It was a strange combination, but Optimus was not confused or concerned about it. It was Starscream incarnate.

“Yes.” He leaned down for another kiss. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I added a relic that doesn't exist in canon for story purposes. I can show you my artistic license if you want to be sure I'm allowed to. XD
> 
> Knock-Out was extremely fun to write. I feel like, if he were a human, he'd be the type to have a flask hidden in his bag. Expect to see more of him in the future, since he does wind up joining the Autobots at the end of the regular canon.<
> 
> Edit notes: Edited 09/11/20
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	19. Chapter Twelve: Love Me like You say You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream does the ritual of forgiveness, has his wings repaired, and do a little Q and A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Religious ceremonies involving self-harm, medical procedures
> 
> Chapter Title taken from "Take her From You" by DEV (https://youtu.be/6r-kPeQ9oRA) which was used to make an excellent StarOp video here: https://youtu.be/USXDpruKrtY (go get 'em, Optimus!)

CHAPTER TWELVE:

Love Me like You say You Do

Starscream tapped the side of the thurible, trying to dislodge some of the pungent incense stuck in the ornate rim. He supposed he should have looked into which end was the proper one to put the pit-damned incense in, but he had assumed it couldn’t be that hard. It was only religion. How little he knew, he supposed, smiling to himself as the last pieces finally fell free. Even though he had not yet heated it, the entire...he supposed a room would be giving it too much credit...the ‘space’ he’d been given to prepare for this ridiculous show smelled of heady herbs and potent chemicals. _Perhaps if I inhale enough_ _of this slag_ _,_ Starscream thought, _I’ll hallucinate the being I’m supposed to be speaking to. Ugh. Why does anyone bother with this nonsense?_

He glanced over at the horn on the table to his right. _Oh, yes. That’s why_. The little piece of metal glinted in the sparse overhead light, still bright and shiny after the solar-cycles he’d spent polishing it. He owed it to Cliffjumper to go through with this. He couldn’t say he wanted to change and not acknowledge the things he’d done. Though this ritual was stupid, and he hated the very idea of it, he knew that the Autobot team would appreciate it. Optimus would appreciate it. Starscream looked back at the table to his data pad. Now, he just needed to double-check the hymns, and the script, and make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything...

The door slammed open. “What the pit are you doing.”

Starscream let out a surprised yelp, nearly dropping the thurible and sending sacred incense everywhere. Arcee crossed her arms, apparently unimpressed. Starscream righted himself, glaring at her. “I thought I told Optimus I didn’t want to be interrupted.”

“You lost that when you stole Cliffjumper’s horns from his memorial.” Arcee growled, stomping into the small room. “So I’ll ask again: what the pit are you doing?”

“How often do you visit that place? I was there just yesterday...”

“Answer. The. Question.”

“Preparing.”

“Preparing for...”

“The ritual.” Starscream debated how much he could tell Arcee. Not that he didn’t want to explain the process. All that Optimus had told them was that Starscream had asked them to participate in a religious ritual with them. Starscream wasn’t sure he knew enough to fully express what his plans were. He barely knew what he was doing. He grit his denta. This would be so much easier if TC were still alive. _He_ was the spiritual one, the one always thinking lofty thoughts about their purpose and so on. Starscream just gave orders without contemplating the sacredness of what they were searching for. He didn’t really believe in Primus, or Unicron, or even Xal. He didn’t even believe in the pit. Still, he wished he’d listened better to Thundercracker. About many things. He also wished he wasn’t fumbling through this ritual. He wished he’d never joined the Decepticons. He could be in a colony somewhere, in a lab, rather than attempting to perform a rite he only half remembered for a mech he killed with his bare servos.

“Oh right. The ritual.” Arcee’s narrowed optics travelled over the various items in the room, from the thurible to the almost-clear energon in an Earth vase, from the horn on the table to the brightly-lit screen of the data pad. She scoffed. “Is this some...Vosian thing?”

“Yes.” Starscream ignored the disdain in her tone, checking the sacred-grade for any lingering imperfections. It had taken a stupidly long time to make the stuff, if it wasn’t ready by now he was throwing it off the roof. He scrolled through the ancient Vosian writing, trying to figure out the words for the hymn he was supposed to sing. This was all so fragging stupid. He’d told Optimus to make sure no one interrupted him until he was ready for the rites to begin, so that he could prepare himself in the privacy of this...closet. Apparently, Optimus had lapsed in his duty. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t appreciate the last remaining piece of my friend being desecrated.” Arcess crossed her arms, her frown deepening. Her smallest digit twitched, like she was considering transforming her servos into her pistols and just shooting him. He was trying to help! He was trying to...it didn’t matter. Nothing did. Why was he doing this? It wouldn't erase a pit-damned thing he’d done, and it wouldn't make these miserable glitches hate him any less!

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Starscream slammed the data pad down, the screen glitching from the force of the impact. “You may not trust me, but trust that my people do not desecrate,” Starscream hissed the word, “the dead.” He gripped the table, leaving claw marks on the worn steel surface. This was a mistake. He had no right to do this, not really. He should just turn over his things to Optimus, and let him perform the ritual.

Arcee’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. I...I don’t understand what you’re doing, but that’s no excuse for prejudice.” She walked closer, looking over his shoulder at the data pad. “Cliffjumper isn’t of Vos. I don’t really know if a Vosian ritual is appropriate.”

“It isn’t for him.” Starscream straightened, cracked his sore back struts, and picked up the clear energon and thurible again. “It’s for me.”

“What? How can you be that selfish?!”

Starscream hung his helm. “It’s not selfishness, either. I don’t think I’m explaining it well. What I mean is, it’s a ritual of penance.” Arcee’s expression changed. Perhaps it softened, but Starscream couldn’t be sure. She didn’t look as angry. Her optics were wide, and curious. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve only seen this ritual once before. TC dragged me to it, said we had to be there, since the tragedy took place at our university.”

“I think I remember that. A fight broke out at the university bar and two bots pulled out their guns, and two mechs died, right?”

“Yes. I forget the names of the shooters, but they were two wastes-of-space from the economics department. They were fighting over something stupid and, in their drunken stupidity, shot at each other and missed their mark. A professor and an undergrad both perished. Both of the morons survived. So the university decided to perform the ritual of restless spirits. For the two shooters to make amends to the spirits of their victims by prostrating themselves before Xal and before those affected by their actions.” Starscream looked away. “I wasn’t paying attention. I told myself I’d never kill anybody, so it didn’t matter.” He laughed bitterly. “How things have changed.”

“Yeah, how funny. So,” Arcee took in the sight of his thurible, finally starting to smoke, “how does this ritual work?”

“I need the team to join me on the roof. Optimus has been briefed on what to do. He will need to brief...you.” Starscream ran a servo over his helm. “What am I doing? I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m going to mess it up and, if there’s such things as spirits, piss them off more...”

“Hey.” Arcee tapped him on the shoulder. “Just...let’s just do this. I’m not really religious, and neither are you, so it’ll be nice and quick. No big deal, right?”

“Yes. It’ll be quick.” Starscream cycled through his memory banks, trying to remember how long the ritual had been. He remembered falling into recharge on TC’s shoulder at about...4 vorns in. Good Xal. Maybe it was that long because it was for two offenders. But still, his sins were greater than theirs. Perhaps, given the weight of his actions, it should take cycles.

#

The hastily woven together penance shroud was somehow itchy. Maybe it was the weight of the stares on him as Starscream knelt before Optimus, his helm bowed. He noticed the ceremonial flail in his lover’s hands and gulped. He could only hope the team would see fit to be gentle. He raised his arms, lifting the thurible high above his downcast helm. He could hear the rest of team prime shuffling behind him, likely muttering among themselves. He focused on the sound of Optimus’s voice, just finishing the beginning prayer to ask Xal to look down upon the proceedings and bless them. It was more of a formality because no one would be listening, given both that Xal wasn’t real and they were conducting the ceremony in common Cybertronian rather than Vos, but it gave Starscream time to prepare for the next part of the whole stupid thing. When he had to talk.

He stole a glance over his shoulder. Arcee was staring at him expectantly, sadness in her gaze. He had to continue. He deserved this.

“Starscream,” Optimus boomed, finally done talking to nothing, “you have chosen to appear in front of your peers and our patron deity to pay a penance.”

“Yes. I have committed a great wrong. Only Xal can forgive me for this crime, and I humbly ask that my peers witness my prostration.” _More like only Arcee can forgive me for this,_ he thought, waiting for the next part of the ritual. _That’s who matters, not just some abstract entity._

“What crime have you committed?”

“I killed a prisoner of war, following a code of conduct that is not conducive to the advancement of Cybertron. I experimented on his corpse and insulted the dead. I wish I could have given Cliffjumper, and the other warriors I’ve murdered in cold blood, an honourable death befitting their lives. I tortured a human for information. And I served for millenia as second-in-command to the worst dictator Cybertron has ever seen, and committed crimes in his name.” He hoped that was enough. It sounded terrible, and it was, but he couldn’t remember all of what he’d done for Megatron. He’d killed. He’d sabotaged. He’d backstabbed. He was sure it had been terrible. “I have committed these crimes against the planet Earth, against Vos, and against Cyberton.”

Optimus flipped through the data pad, looking for the section on multiple crimes. “For each of these crimes, I ask you this question: can you be forgiven?”

“I do not deserve forgiveness, speaker, not for a single thing I’ve done. I beseech my peers to have mercy on me.” The incense floated in the air around them. Starscream resisted the need to cough.

“What do you suggest then, Starscream of Vos? You admit to your crimes, and you admit to their impact. But you do not believe you deserve to be forgiven. What would you have us do?”

“I humbly ask that I be allowed to earn my forgiveness.”

“And how do you plan to do so?” Optimus asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“By serving the ones whom I have wronged. By pledging my support to the Autobots. Not my allegiance, my support. I will serve your cause, however you see fit.”

“Do you...do you wish to join our team?” Optimus asked, excitement in his voice.

“I do not deserve to join your team as your equal.” Starscream barely kept the smile off his face-plate. Optimus looked a little crestfallen, but Starscream continued. “I will serve you, with the humbleness of a loyal servant.”

“I feel that this punishment is fitting for your crime. But some of the individuals whom your actions effected are present with us today. I will ask them to speak, and to give their approval for your sentence.”

“If it pleases Xal,” Starscream said quietly. “If it pleases the people.”

“Then I call upon Bulkhead, former Wrecker and Sergeant in the Autobot army, to speak.”

“Uh...” Bulkhead stepped forward. He looked uncomfortable, which was expected. This was likely way out of his comfort zone. “The Decepticons are bad? The Decepticon army has killed my friends. In war, but, uh, what you did to Fowler wasn’t cool.”

“Do you feel, Bulkhead, that the proposed punishment fits these crimes?”

“Sure?” Bulkhead said. “He did bad things in the name of a bad leader, so he’ll probably do good things in the name of a good leader.”

“It shall be written.” Optimus gestured to Bumblebee. The yellow scout had a data-plan in his servos, holding it up above his helm. “As Lieutenant Bumblebee cannot speak, I have asked him to write down his thoughts, which I will share with the assembly.” Bumblebee walked through his team, handed his pad to Optimus, and walked back with a curt nod in Starscream’s direction. Starscream nodded back but didn’t meet his optics. Optimus began to read from the note. “Starscream and I have a lot in common. We have both been soldiers for a long time, and we were both hurt by the same mech.” Bumblebee, in his kindness, left out the name they all knew too well. “I hold this to be true: hurt bots hurt bots. I think we should allow Starscream to seek redemption through service. It would be a shame to allow the leader of our enemies to destroy another life.”

Tears fell from Starscream’s optics. He covered his mouth with his servo, trying his best not to sob.

Optimus seemed torn between wanting to comfort his lover and continue with the ceremony. Starscream locked optics with him, silently willing him to continue. Crying in front of the others was the least humiliation he could endure today. Optimus, with pain in his voice, continued. “Very well said, Bumblebee. I call now upon Ratchet, CMO of Omega Outpost One. Do you feel that the punishment proposed...”

“Yes.” Ratchet said simply. “Can we just get this over with and put this poor mech out of his misery? This is...”

“This is according to his wishes,” Optimus reminded Ratchet. Ratchet huffed and stepped back.

“Still. Yeah, I agree. Let him work for us. I could use some help around the infirmary.”

Starscream’s spark started to pulse, a dull ache spreading through his systems. He knew what was coming. He was dreading it. This was his whole purpose, he reminded himself, but he was also terrified. What if she recommended be-helming him? Or said she couldn't forgive him? The thurible shook in his servo, sending ashes of sacred-grade out onto the ground of the roof.

“Arcee,” Starscream registered, distantly, Optimus calling her name. He scarcely heard her pedesteps as she came forward to address her grievances. “Do you, as one wronged directly by Starscream’s actions, approve of the proposed punishment.”

“Yes.”

Starscream turned around. Arcee’s servo was clenched in Bumblebee’s, vibrating in his grip. “This mech has done bad things, Prime. He’s hurt many people. He killed my partner. He tortured me and my partner for information. He...I once thought him evil.” A single tear ran down her face-plate. It was embarrassing, almost, that she was so composed while he was nearly coming apart. “But I don’t anymore. We’ve all been hurt by this war. Some of us worse than others. I think...I don’t forgive him. But I would like to. With time.”

“Starscream,” Optimus turned back to his lover, kneeling on the ground. “The assembly has determined that your punishment is just, and wise. You shall serve the Autobots as penance for your crimes.”

“May it be the will of Xal. I thank you for granting me this grace.”

Optimus looked at the flail in his servo. “I...”

“Do it, Optimus. Finish the ceremony.” Starscream steeled his nerves. This wouldn't be finished until the pain was over. He could only hope the team was merciful.

“As we have witnessed, so too has the great Xal. As we have decided, so too has the great Xal. Now it is time for us, the wronged, to witness the enforcement of his will.” He held aloft the flail, which was a bunch of random wires tied to a stick, soaked in sacred-grade, the team gasping as they beheld it. “Step forward, my sparkling, and enact the will of Xal.”

“You’re crazy.” Ratchet shook his helm. “I’m not hitting my patient. You’re all insane!”

“It is part of the ritual.” Optimus gripped his podium. “It has to happen.”

“We’ll...”

“You don’t have to,” Starscream said sadly. “I do.”

“...WHAT?!”

“I’ll be gentle.” Starscream set the thurible on the ground and stood, shedding his penance cloak. “I won’t re-open anything.”

“Starscream...”

“Let. Me. Do. This.” Starscream growled out, reaching out to take the flail. “It will be quick. Then the ritual will be complete.”

Ratchet was silent. Starscream took his place on the ground, his back facing the team. He looked down at the flail. He was going too far. None of this mattered. Ratchet was right...

Starscream steeled himself. If those cowards at the university could do it, so could he. “How many times must I enact the will of Xal, speaker?”

“Five,” Optimus said. “One for each member of my team.”

“Six, then,” Starscream said, surprising everyone. “For there is one member of your team who is no longer here with us.”

“Six.” Optimus’s voice broke. “Begin.”

Starscream positioned himself. He took a deep inhale and crossed his arms over his spark. “Forgive me,” he whispered, before beginning. It didn’t hurt, not like he knew the student’s had, but enough to sting. He could hear the Autobots wincing behind him as he struck himself, drawing a little energon each time. In truth, the sting lessened with the third blow. He felt some of his guilt leave him as he flailed. He was paying for his crimes. He could be absolved for them. He could learn from them. He could gain something from them, more than just peace. He looked into Optimus’s optics and smiled as he finished. He felt lighter, now. He laid the flail on the ground and put his shawl back on. “It is complete.”

“Then the ritual will draw to a close. We, the people, have seen your grief, your guilt, and your willingness to leave behind the errors of your ways. May Xal have mercy upon you, and may he guide you as you make this right.”

“In the name of Xal,” Starscream said, surprised to hear it echoed back from the assembled bots behind him.

#

Optimus stormed up to Starscream as the crowd dissipated. “If I had known...”

“I didn’t tell you for a reason.” Starscream winced. “And that reason was that I knew you wouldn’t let me go through with it if you knew what it entailed.”

“You are correct.” Optimus placed his servo on Starscream’s shoulder. “But...despite my disapproval, I am very proud of you. I know it will take time,”

“As it should.”

“But I feel like this is a good step. The team is already accepting you. Perhaps seeing how sorry you are will allow them to fully let their guards down.” He looked away for Starscream for a moment. “Ah, I see that Arcee wants to talk with you.”

Starscream’s tanks wobbled, but he turned around. Arcee was indeed approaching him, looking a little nervous. “Hey, boss-bot. Can I borrow Starscream for a moment?”

“Of course!” Optimus gave Starscream one final pat. “I will wait for you by the door, my spark.”

“Sounds good.” Starscream gave Optimus a smile and watched his lover walk away. He was glad Optimus wasn’t leaving. If Arcee wanted to “dispense penance” herself, he didn’t think he’d be well enough to fight her off. He sat down on the roof, his legs too sore to stand on.

Arcee approached him, cautiously. Starscream was still smarting from the flagellation, but he tried to meet her optics. She sat next to him, slowly, like brushing him would aggravate the wounds further. “That was...a lot.” She said finally.

“Well, we Vosians don’t do anything by half-measures.” Starscream offered a grin. “Including penance.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Arcee glanced over the wounds. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Hmm? Which part?”

“Where you said you wished you could turn back time and give Cliffjumper a noble death?” She asked, looking at the ground in front of them.

“Yes. I do.”

“Why just a noble death?”

“Decepticons, as I told you before, do not take prisoners. Optimus told me that Cliffjumper was from Kaon, like you, where there is a proud tradition of gladiators and warriors. I was reading about that. The ancient Kaonians believed that the most honourable death is to go down fighting and that your soul will rest easy in the well of all sparks. I think a lot of Kaon still believes that, especially since the war. If he was to die, either way, it should have been in noble combat.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in souls. Or the afterlife.”

“I don’t. But he did. Or, he might have.” Starscream looked at the horn in her servos. “It would be selfish to think about this from my perspective alone.”

Arcee stared at him. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I know it was not what you wanted to hear, but I didn’t want to have any deception in my words. I thought that would be dishonourable.” Starscream said.

“It would be.” Arcee sighed. “Thanks, though. I...it will take some time, but...”

“I’ll earn your forgiveness. I promise. I meant that too.”

“I hope you do. I believed you that night in the med-bay too.” Arcee patted his servo. “But I believe you more now. I haven’t met a lot of bots that prove what they say by flagellating themselves.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Starscream laughed. “Just ask Optimus.”

“It was my mistake to doubt that.” Arcee stood up, holding out a servo to help Starscream to his pedes. “Welcome to the team, Screamer. I’m still going to kill you if you look at Optimus wrong.”

Starscream stuck his glossa out at her. Arcee snickered, giving him a friendly punch in the arm. It hurt, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a wince. He’d been through enough today, though in his spark he knew his most difficult work was yet to come.

They wandered back to Optimus. Optimus gave him a questioning look. “I’m fine.” Starscream took Optimus’s servo. “Shall we make our way to the med-bay?”

“I suppose so.” Optimus opened the door to the stairs leading back from whence they came. I am not looking forward to Ratchet’s inevitable ranting about what you did here today.”

Starscream shivered, ducking to avoid getting hit by the roof. “Don’t remind me. The only reason I decided to do this today was that I knew I was replacing my wings today. I wouldn’t do this with my repaired beautiful body.”

“Oh right!” Arcee said, stepping into line behind them. “The operation is today. Are you excited?”

Starscream nodded. “Of course!” His smile faltered. Maybe Arcee wouldn't notice.

She did. “You seem a bit scared.”

“I...I just want it to go well.” They descended, Starscream slipping a bit on a flush step. Optimus caught him before he hit the ground. “I’ll admit to a bit of fear.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Ratchet’s a great medic.”

“I don’t doubt that, but it’s still a major operation.”

“I will be there with you the whole time.” Optimus squeezed Starscream’s servo. “Perhaps Ratchet will be having a good day and he will have a warm and sunny disposition.”

“Yeah,” Starscream scoffed, “and Unicron will knock on the door, surrender himself, and make us all oil cakes.”

#

“Hold still,” Ratchet chided, “or I’m strapping you down.”

“Sorry.” _So much for warmth_ , Starscream thought, forcing himself to lay down on his front and stay still, though his entire frame twitched with excitement. His processor was firing a mile a minute. He looked over his shoulder at the twisted and torn metal making up his wings. Today was the last day he’d have to look at them. It felt like everything had come full circle. He had received penance, and a way forward, and now he would be restored. Today was the day he’d accepted his sins and asked forgiveness. Today was the day he’d be able to fly again. Well, not today—Ratchet’s orders. But soon. “Can you really blame me? I’m going to be whole again!”

“You were always whole,” Ratchet grumbled, getting the drip line set up, “just a little dented.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate that, but you’re a ground mode. You wouldn’t understand.” Starscream folded his arms and rested his helm them, a barrier between the cold metal of the slab and his still healing face. “It would be like losing your t-cog. It’s a part of who you are.”

“All our parts are part of who we are, but I see your point.” Ratchet tightened a strap around Starscream’s ankle. He patted his calf. “I hope you appreciate that this is the hardest repair I’ve ever been forced into completing.”

“Do you want a medal?” Starscream scoffed teasingly.

“No. You’d just better follow my instructions EXACTLY this time.”

“Hey!” Starscream protested. “I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”

“And I did a quick diagnostics scan before I started getting your anesthetic ready. I thought I told you not to interface.” Ratchet glared at Starscream when he opened his mouth to reply. “I don’t want details. I already know much more than I EVER wanted to.”

“We didn’t interface. There are other ways to overload.” Starscream winked at Ratchet, earning a roll of the medic’s optics. “I thought you’d know since you were a medic. Or has it been a while?”

“Of course you found a loophole. You’re Starscream.” Starscream willed himself still as Ratchet found a line to insert the IV drip into. The medic opened an arm panel and poked through the protective mesh to the line just beneath, the one connecting to his arm’s cables and pistons, providing them with the fuel to move. Or, in this case, the medicine to keep them lax during the procedure as he was temporarily off-line. It hurt, and from recent experience, he knew it was more painful than it needed to be. Starscream growled. “Oops.” Ratchet poked the other line in quickly. “My digit slipped.”

“Fragger.”

“I thought that was my problem. That I didn’t frag enough.” Ratchet moved to Starscream’s front, shining a light into his optics.

“I’m sorry. None of you can take a joke. Was a sense of humour optional when you were recruited or did your faction specifically look for joyless husks?”

Ratchet, seemingly satisfied, stood up. He walked over to the table, pushing over the IV line. The blue glow indicated that was the energon that would keep his fluids moving and make the operation easier. “We did, in fact. Kept us from being distracted by your joke of an army during battle.” Starscream glanced up. Ratchet was grinning at him as he attached the drip to the line.

Starscream stuck out his glossa. “Hilarious.”

Ratchet sighed. “I’ll give you a break. I know you’re nervous.”

“Nervous? Me?” As if the rising pitch of his voice was a clear giveaway. Ratchet patiently waited for his response. _Slag,_ Starscream thought, _he’s smarter than the vehicons_. _They always bought that._ “Yes, happy?”

“Very. I’m going to take good care of you, alright? You’ll be flying again soon. No sooner than I say you can, but soon.” Ratchet drummed a digit on the table. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” Starscream smiled at him, the first genuine smile of the day. “I’m ready. Bring Optimus in.”

Ratchet walked over to the med bay’s massive door and pushed it open. Optimus came in, concern mixing with happiness on his face. “Hello, my spark.”

“Hello, my _[beloved]_.” Starscream reached out and grabbed one of Optimus’s servos the second he sat down. He gave it a light squeeze. “This must be a familiar sight.”

“Too familiar, but my spark can rest knowing that this operation is one of your last.” Optimus squeezed back. “Right, Ratchet?”

“IF you can listen to me THIS TIME, then yes.” Ratchet pushed over another drip, this one full of a greener liquid. That was the medicine that would keep him under. “Are you ready, Starscream?”

“Yes. Give me my wings back.” The line was connected and Starscream felt himself sink under, looking at Optimus’s kind face and Ratchet’s determined expression. He was in good servos. He was finally relaxed enough to lay back. He felt so warm as the medicine coursed through him like he was sinking into an oil bath. “Ratchet?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really grateful. I mean it. You’re a good medic.” Starscream yawned. He was so tired. His limbs were so heavy.

Ratchet nodded. “I’m sure you’ll say that when you’re sober, too. Sweet dreams.”

Starscream’s lips quirked into a lazy smile as he let himself offline. When he woke up, he’d be one step closer to being himself again.

#

Starscream onlined slowly as the energon drip washed and processed the medicine from his system. He blinked, pushing back and sitting up. His spinal struts ached. His entire body ached. Still, it wasn’t as bad as his first serious of operations. But why was sitting up so difficult?

“Careful,” Ratchet warned. “Your centre of balance is going to be different.”

“But nothing I’m not used to.” Starscream reset his system to its defaults, righting himself as he pulled himself all the way up. Optimus was beaming at him. He tried to return the look, but he wouldn’t be able to until he saw for himself. “I want to see them.”

Ratchet and Optimus helped him stand and move to a mirror brought into the med bay for this operation. Walking like this felt more natural than his gait had been since he arrived. Ratchet turned him to his side in front of the reflective surface. “Here you go,” he said, letting go and stepping back.

Starscream turned his helm slowly, joy flooding his circuits as his beautiful wings came into view. They were just as he remembered. No, better. When he could fully look at them, he could see how well crafted they were, how the metal had been polished into perfection. He wiggled them, giggling to himself. They were a plain unadorned silver, matching his paint job exactly. He touched one’s perfectly pointed tip. They were beautiful. No, they were perfect.

And then his chassis. Either Ratchet or Optimus put in the effort to polish it, removing the last traces of his insignia. The metal was smooth, shiny and perfect silver. He’d half expected to find an outline, some trace of who he used to be, but it was gone. He was no longer a Decepticon. He was...Starscream. Just Starscream. He started to laugh. Optimus and Ratchet looked on in shock as he cackled and chortled and hooted until fluid leaked from his optics. “He thought he’d taken everything from me,” Starscream turned to Optimus, wiping a tear away, “but he couldn't, could he? He lost to the Autobots again!”

“I guess...he did?” Ratchet shrugged.

Starscream grabbed the medic and pulled him into a tight embrace. The crying laughter turned into crying. Even he’d thought he’d lost everything, but he hadn’t. He’d lost nothing that couldn’t be rebuilt, and what he’d gained was worth all of it. Every single wound. “Thank you,” he sobbed into Ratchet’s chassis, “thank you.”

Ratchet returned the embrace. “You’re welcome, Screamer.” He let go and looked down at Starscream, holding him by the shoulders. “Sky’s the limit.”

Starscream jumped as Optimus ran a servo down the side of one of his wings, shivering in pleasure. His wings always were sensitive. “Exquisite.”

“I know,” Starscream preened. “Aren’t I just?”

Optimus picked him up in a bridal carry. “Always. I am so happy I could witness this moment.”

“Just wait until I can fly again. I’ll give you something to witness.” Starscream laughed, throwing his arms around Optimus’s shoulders. “Soon, right Ratchet?”

“Soon.” He thought he caught the medic wiping a tear away, but it could have been a trick of the light. “Soon.”

#

“Do I have to do this?” Starscream whined, crossing his legs in his chair. The motion was still a little painful, but it was worth it to look as unhappy as possible. His wings itched, and his tank was half-empty. Could he feign a fever? Ratchet’s sly look from the corner told him the medic was in on this spectacle. _Frag._ He was really on his own. “I’m still sore from the operation.”

“The operation was three groons ago. That is not an excuse. Also, that is not what you said two solar-cycles ago.” Optimus replied with the closest he’d allow to a lecherous grin on his face-plate. “You did not complain that you were sore then. You complained that I was not going fast enough, or hard enough, but...”

Starscream saw Ratchet glaring at them from across the room. He wasn’t interested in going back to the med-bay today. “Okay, okay! I get the point! But can’t I just, I don’t know, do literally anything else?”

“For the final time, Star, no.” Optimus’s tone told Starscream he was very close to rolling his optics. “You are going to sit next to me, answer questions, be polite, and then we will go to the roof and share a cube. Think of it as the final part of your penance ritual. Deal?”

Starscream looked up at his lover’s handsome face. Optimus had retracted his face-shield, allowing his calm, kind smile to be displayed. His servo was warm over Starscream’s, and he scooted his chair closer. He looked a little like the turbofox that used to live outside his dorm on Kaon, the one he’d toss random drippings to, the one that wagged it’s little tail and followed him all the way to the stairs with big optics. The same big, hopeful optics Optimus was looking at him with. How was he supposed to resist? “I suppose it’s not as bad as flagellating. Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t think I’m going to like it.”

“We all have to do things we do not like, Starscream. Did you think Ratchet enjoyed changing your bandages, or that I enjoyed watching you return to...your ship after we made love?”

“I said I’d do it.” Starscream snapped. “You don’t need to keep convincing me.”

“We can do something you like right after,” Optimus promised. “Before we refuel.”

“Something I like, hmm?” Starscream caught Ratchet’s narrowed gaze again. He had no doubt that the medic was listening. He knew Ratch didn’t believe either of them when they swore that they hadn’t interfaced, and he was just waiting for proof. “That sounds fine. Now, shall we get on with it? The sooner we start this, the sooner I can leave.”

Optimus nodded at Ratchet. The medic opened the door to the ‘living room’ and the team streamed in, the humans running to the couch and arguing over who sat where. The Cybertronians hung back and watched, Arcee smiling at Starscream’s obvious discomfort. He’d get her back. He knew where she kept her high-grade. “Starscream has generously agreed to answer questions for us, as a way to get to know him. I know everyone is curious about our new guest, and this way we can get some answers without bombarding him with the same inquiries. Perhaps,” Optimus looked down at the children, “you might like to ask him questions about Cybertron. Who would like to start?”

“Did you really whip yourself?” Jack asked.

Starscream rolled his optics. He couldn't say a thing, because Jack was Arcee and Optimus’s favourite (though they wouldn’t admit it) of the little gaggle of fleshlings, but he wanted to flick the meatbag across the room, just as he’d seen in one of the animated picture shows he’d watched. “Yes. It was a religious thing.”

“Oh, cool,” Jack said, a little surprised at Starscream’s openness, the seeker could tell. “Catholics do that too. It’s a religion we have here.”

“Those are the ones who follow the man in the big hat, yes? And the other man, the one who got nailed to the tree?”

“Uh, that’s sacrilegious, but yes.”

“Oh, spare me.” Starscream leaned back. “Everyone takes those things too seriously. It’s just a bunch of...”

“My Mom’s Catholic,” Raf piped up.

“...a bunch of rituals that have their place.” Starscream course-corrected. Optimus patted his servo. “I don’t wish to talk about the ritual, though. It’s a personal, private matter. I’m sure you understand.”

Raf nodded. “Awe.” Miko huffed, crossing her arms. “Flails are so metal.”

“Shall we begin properly?” Optimus asked, reminding Starscream of a school-teacher. The group nodded and settled in, quieting down in anticipation of the questions.

The room was silent until Miko waved her hand in the air. “Pick me, pick me!” She chanted, despite being the only being in the room with their hand up. Starscream pointed at her.

“Speak.”

“Are you a girl or a boy robot?”

“I’ll kill you where you stand, worm. I thought we were friends.”

“Starscream!” Optimus glared at his lover. “Answer the question.”

“But it’s offensive!”

“To be fair,” Arcee added, “you do look very femme-like from the waist down.”

“Try the neck down.” Bulkhead snorted.

“I will rip out your spark and eat it, wrecker. I am a very manly mech, and I...” He looked over at Optimus, who was hiding behind his servo. “You think I look like a femme, don’t you?”

“You have certain...traits more common to our feminine counterparts, yes. But those are part of what I like about you, your mix of feminine and masculine traits.”

“You do like to grab my hips, I’ve noticed,” Starscream remarked, earning a glare from Ratchet. The medic was apparently the morality police today. That took some of the fun out. Perhaps Starscream would just have to sneak it in. “To answer your question, welp.” Optimus elbowed him. “To answer your question, Miko, I am a mech. The human equivalent to a man.”

“How old are you?” Miko asked, seemingly unfazed by his negative response.

“Very. Next.”

“Come ooooon,” pleaded Miko. “That’s so boring. I bet you’re, like, a billion years old or something!”

Starscream bristled. “I’m not that old. Not in Cybertronian terms. I’m old in human terms. Let’s just say...I’m over a million years old.”

“Whoa!” Miko’s jaw dropped. “That’s awesome!”

“How many cycles over a million, exactly?” Arcee asked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t you know not to ask a gentlemech his age?”

“I thought that was gentlefemmes.” Arcee raised a brow-ridge.

Starscream considered ‘accidentally’ letting off a shot, but knew that the punishment he’d get later was not worth it. “Punishment” in this context was taking some getting used to. Optimus was not like Megatron. His punishments were more ‘sleeping on the lounging couch rather than the berth’ or ‘not getting his bed-time kiss’ and less ‘beating the tar out of him or forcing him to his knees’. He went very willingly to his knees for Optimus. “Femme, mech, it’s all irrelevant. I’m over a million years old. End of story. Next.” Raf cautiously raised his hand. “You there. The smallest one.”

“I heard Optimus say you went to university on Cybertron. What did you study?”

“Oh, what didn’t I study? To list all the different classes I took would take the rest of the day. Perhaps I should just tell you what degrees I earned?” He asked. Raf nodded sweetly. “Very well. In human terms, I received a bachelor of chemistry with a minor in physics, a bachelor of political science with a minor in leadership psychology and comparative literature, bachelor’s and master’s degree in applied biomechanics and a bachelor’s and masters degree in engineering.”

“Wait. Comparative literature?” Bulkhead scoffed. “You’re telling me that Starscream, commander of the seekers, air commander of the Decepticons, is an expert on _books_?”

“Studying old texts helped my squadron find energon, and later search for the Matrix of Leadership and the relics of the Thirteen. The ability to analyze and compare text is most valuable in that context. I also enjoy reading. Is there a problem with that?”

“What’s your favourite book, then?” Bulkhead asked.

“‘A Tale of Starbreaker’. It’s a novel detailing a fictionalized version of the founding of Vos.” Starscream crossed his arms, which pulled at the mesh keeping the re-scaffolding of his wings togeter. He uncrossed after a very stern look from Ratchet. “If you can find a translation, you might enjoy it. It uses very accessible language.” Optimus gave Starscream a quick pinch. The seeker groaned. “There’s also many battle scenes that might pique your interest.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Bulkhead actually smiled at him. “Thanks for the rec.”

“You’re welcome?”

“Next question,” Optimus said, moving things along.

Raf again. “What was the hardest degree?”

“Engineering. None of my degrees were difficult in an academic sense. I was blessed with a love of learning and a strong intellect. But I had to leave my home in Vos and travel to Kaon, which had the better program. It was hard, being away from my family.”

“You have a family?” asked Miko. “Like, brothers and sisters and stuff?”

“Kind of. More like how Optimus’s team is a family. We were warriors with close bonds of loyalty. And I had a friend who was close enough to almost be family.” He tried to force the memories of them from his processor. “They’ve all passed on. I’m all that’s left.”

“Whatever happened to them, anyway?” Arcee asked. “Can I ask that? That’s my only real question for you.”

Optimus noticed Starscream’s discomfort. “I do not know if that is appropriate for this stage of his recovery.”

“No, it is. I took her family. It’s only fair.” Starscream took a deep intake. “The short answer is, I’m not sure. My best friend, Skyfire, was lost on a scientific mission of exploration. My squadron went on a combat mission. I was too injured from a previous battle to join them. TC and ‘Warp—sorry, Thundercracker and Skywarp, my trine, were the only survivors. It was a massacre. They fought to the last but they were outnumbered and back-up didn’t come. They fought valiantly, I was told, but the Autobot’s offensive was too strong. If back-up could have come, perhaps...”

“It does you no good to think of that now.” Optimus squeezed his servo. “Remember what you told me?”

Starscream nodded and turned back to Arcee. “Thundercracker and Skywarp were sent on a basic energon seeking mission. I was injured, again. This time, it was after a fight with Megatron. My leg was broken in half and he hit me hard enough to crack my t-cog.” The group gathered collectively winced, expressions of pity on their faces. It irritated him, but he knew it came from empathy. He’d allow it, for now. “They didn’t return. As soon as I was recovered I flew to an asteroid, to their last known co-ordinates, and the first thing I saw was TC, lying on the ground, with his spark ripped out. Skywarp was obliterated. There wasn’t enough of him left for me to entomb. So, I’m not sure. I don’t know who killed them. I don’t know what happened to them. All I know is that I have no family left but my dearest Optimus.” Optimus smiled at that, giving Starscream a side hug.

“I’m sorry,” Arcee said, her tone sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Starscream answered, just as sincere. He noticed that Miko had another question. “Would you like to lighten the mood, girl one?”

“When did you and Optimus first hook up? What’s your favourite thing about him? Are you guys going to get married?”

“Uh...”

“Please don’t answer that.” Arcee buried her face in her servos. Bumblebee’s optics widened and he chirped frantically.

Bulkhead covered his ears. “I can’t hear you, audials off!” He started to loudly hum to himself.

The two mechs at the front of the room looked at Ratchet. “Keep it kid-friendly. Otherwise, I don’t care.”

“We began our intimate relationship shortly after the cave-in at the energon mine. We encountered each other on patrol and I do believe Starscream was the one to kiss me first.”

“I’d been nearly buried under a hill on this backwater planet. I was very eager to feel alive.” Starscream smirked. “But you were the one who grabbed my...”

“KID. FRIENDLY.” Ratchet yelled.

“Yes. That was when we started our intimate relationship. My favourite part of Optimus?”

“This better be kid-friendly too, or I will put you back in the infirmary!”

“Physically? His handsome face-plate and strong shoulders.” Optimus’s cheek derma heated and he looked at the floor bashfully. “Otherwise? His determination. He is a true leader, a true hero, and a loyal friend. He never gives up. He was determined to save a broken mech in the desert that most others would leave behind, after all.”

“Awh!” Squealed Miko. Raf grinned a little.

“Cute, I guess.” Jack scoffed.

“As for...what was the other thing you said? Marry?” He turned to Optimus. “Is that the ceremony with all the flowers that was on TV? Was that why those ladies were in the dresses?”

“Yes, my spark.” Optimus tore his optics away to look kindly at Miko. “In many ways, Cybertron is much like Earth. We had something like television, we had art and music, we had jobs and universities and whatnot. But relationships are different. I believe it is partly because our lifespans are very, very long. We do not really have an equivalent of marriage on Cybertron, Miko. There’s a ceremony for a Prime taking a consort, but that is more of a formal affair than an Earth wedding.” Optimus answered. “We just declare ourselves conjux endura, eternal lovers, and that is that.”

“Vos has a ceremony for lovers, but I can’t remember what we do. I think it involves innermost energon. Maybe fireworks. Someone sings a song.” Starscream shrugged. “No one I knew ever bothered.”

“Really?” Arcee asked. The femme was certainly talkative today.

“Truthfully...look, I didn’t socialize much outside my team. Did you ever meet any of my squadron?” Arcee shook her helm. “Most of us were kept too busy to bother with romance. Our government demanded a lot from us. The ones that wanted to...trust me when I say that Ramjet was hard to be around at the best of times due to his incurable case of stupid. I could see why it would be hard for anyone to deal with him. I was pretty sure TC and ‘Warp were going to, eventually.” Starscream folded his servos. “I would have liked to see it.”

Arcee looked to the floor. “Understood. Sorry for bringing it up.”

Starscream waved it off. “It’s in the past. The point is that no, we do not have a concept similar to human marriage. No one wears a dress, no one has a party, you just sing and then poof! Commitment.”

“So...are you guys gonna do that?”

“Next question!” Starscream squeaked.

Bee let out a long string of chirps and beeps. “Bee wants to know if he can ask a question about Megatron if that’s okay.”

Starscream met Bumblebee’s optics. They were a crisp blue, resolute, determined. Truthfully, had anyone else asked he would have told them where they could shove their question. But Bumblebee was perhaps the only other person who knew was it was to be hurt beyond recovery by Megatron. Bumblebee had lost his voice. Starscream lost almost everything else. “Of course.”

“He wants to know if the rumour about Megatron having a small...what’s a spike? Anyway, is that true?”

“Bumblebee!” Arcee smacked her companion. “Don’t make Raf say that!”

“That’s not kid-friendly, you yellow aft.” Ratchet turned to Starscream. “Don’t answer that. If you do...”

“No, the rumour isn’t true,” Starscream answered, smirking at Ratchet’s grimace the entire time as horror dawned on Arcee’s face. Bulkhead still had his servos over his audials. “I wish it were. I’d certainly need fewer repairs if that were true, but alas. It is smaller than Optimus’s, though.” If looks could kill, Ratchet would have murdered him, repairs be damned. Miko had her hand over her mouth to cover her snickering, and Jack had his face buried in his hands. “Though I hear the rumour inspired some amusing songs.”

“If you make Raf translate them, I swear to Primus I will use you for target practice.” Arcee glared at Bumblebee.

“However,” Starscream leaned forward, “and I swear this is kid-friendly, Ratchet, don’t look at me like that, Megatron does have a few embarrassing secrets I’ve been dying to share. Would you like to hear them?”

Starscream reminded himself of a children’s host he’d seen on his TV, but the kids and bots alike were eating it up. Even Optimus was staring at him with interest. “Well, let’s see. Where to start. Oh! He cried after Optimus regained his memories and forgot they weren’t, as you humans would say, BFFs. He cried if anyone mentioned it.”

Bulkhead chortled. Arcee belly laughed. The kids were giggling. Starscream continued, invigorated by the responses. “He lost a gladiator match to a mini-con and threatened the Kaon media into not airing the fight. He’s a worse shot than Soundwave because he can’t aim his cannon for slag. He refuses to change it because, and I quote, “I am my gun, and my gun is me.”" Starscream adjusted his vocoder to be lower, gravelly-er and nasally for his best Megatron impression. The whole room was laughing, Optimus included. “He has to be called ‘Lord Megatron’ all the time.”

Miko raised her hand. “Yes, even during _that_.” Miko shuddered.

“Beyond it, though. Bring him energon? “Your cube, Lord Megatron.” Bring him his “I miss Orion Pax” tissues? “Lord Megatron, here is a wipe for a completely unrelated reason.” He’s losing? “Lord Megatron, the Autobots kicked our sorry afts from Aquatron to the USA! Should we retreat?” Retreat? I am Lord Megatron! We will do that, but call it something different, for I am BRILLIANT!”

That got the biggest laugh out of all of them. Starscream found himself chuckling along. Optimus clapped his lover on the shoulder. Starscream saw him wipe tears of laughter from his optics. “Any other questions?”

Jack squirmed in his chair. Starscream knew that look. TC often had that same expression after stealing his private stash of energon cubes or borrowing ‘Warp’s polishing rag without asking. “I believe Jack has a question.”

“I didn’t put up my hand.” Jack retorted.

“Yes, but your face speaks for you.”

“This is a space of learning, my friend.” Optimus smiled down at his human friend. Instead of relaxing, the young man looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. “Please. If you want to know something, ask us. As you have seen, Starscream is quite willing to share his knowledge with you.”

“Oh yes, Jack.” He said, relishing the young man’s uncomfortable writhing. “I’m here to help.”

Jack looked at the floor. “How do you guys do it?”

“Do...what?”

“You know, have...” Jack blushed fiercely. “Intimate...time?” Raf looked at his older friend with confusion. Miko was on the edge of her seat.

Starscream put two and two together and his systems ground to a halt. “Do you mean Optimus and I specifically or Cybertronians in general?” Optimus wasn’t moving. _Oh, dear Xal. He bluescreened_.

Arcee’s jaw dropped. “Why in the pit...”

“I didn’t know your species could do it at all until I saw Optimus and Starscream make out!” Jack protested.

“Do what?” Raf asked.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older. Get him out of here.” Ratchet ordered. Bulkhead muttered ‘don’t have to tell me twice.’ and picked up the struggling child, still asking what they were doing and what “it” was. As soon as the doors shut, Ratchet groaned. “I knew this would happen eventually. Do you want me to take a crack at it?”

“Yes, I think I would. I also think it would be better if Starscream and I were not present for this lesson.” Optimus said, standing. “No disrespect to the children, but I feel that our presence may be distracting.”

“If you keep making that face, yes, it would be.” Ratchet deadpanned.

“Can I ask one question before they go?” Miko asked.

“I’m bracing myself, but yes, you may,” Starscream replied.

“Who’s the top?” She asked.

“How do you even know what that is?” Jack sputtered.

“Yaoi. How do you know that?” Miko asked, smirking mischievously.

“I watch Drag Race with my Mom.”

“We switch,” Starscream answered. Optimus bodily hauled him from the room as Jack sputtered indignantly and Miko nodded with a deranged grin, the other bots staring after them with shock and horror. It was very funny and Starscream couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

“That was...” Optimus leaned against the wall.

“Very fun,” Starscream said, smiling genuinely. “I enjoyed that.”

“I thought you would hate it.”

“I did, but...I liked making everyone laugh. I liked talking about books again. I can’t remember the last time I read for fun.” Starscream gave Optimus a spontaneous hug. “Thank you for allowing me to share that.”

“Of course, my spark.” Optimus kissed his helm. “Any time. Shall we go have that cube?”

“Hey, you said we could do something I want to first.” Starscream walked his digits up Optimus’s chassis. “And I know what I want.”

“We should not do anything that would complicate your recovery,” Optimus insisted, ever the gentlemech, even as his systems heated.

“Goodness no! But I’m curious about this ‘making out’ thing the oldest boy mentioned. Perhaps we should give it a try.” Starscream purred into his audials. “Shall we adjourn to your quarters?”

“Our quarters,” Optimus corrected, taking Starscream by the servo and dragging him from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gimme that old-time religion...
> 
> What a big day for Starscream. I don't know where I got the idea for the ritual from, but I put a lot of effort into that scene so it's staying in. I was raised Catholic, so I enjoyed taking pot-shots at ritualistic religion, but I also believe in forgiveness so I thought it would be cool to have a whole ritual for it that didn't involve being alone with an adult man in an enclosed space for a long period of time!
> 
> Ah, memories.
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	20. Chapter Thirteen: Living Life on the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine mission goes horribly wrong, and Starscream must choose between risking his health and risking the life of his beloved Optimus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Some horror elements, action violence
> 
> Chapter title taken from "Loves Me Not" by TaTu (https://youtu.be/X_3L7Ncug60)
> 
> This chapter jumps around a bit in time. I think it's easy to follow, but I'm just giving you a heads up!
> 
> Also more references to the IDW comics, and to Robots in Disguise.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Living Life on the Other Side

Optimus looked up at the crashing thunderstorm overhead. Sheets of rain obscured his view of the sides of the canyon he found himself and his team stuck at the bottom of. Lighting flashed overhead, illuminating the entire stormy sky, and the dozens of red glowing optics watching his team for any sign of weakness from the inky black darkness. Optimus tried to use the increased light to see if he could spot a way out, but even with a better view, he could not see an easy way out. He tapped his audial, attempting to get through to his away team, Ratchet, Star, ANYONE, but the interference from the storm ensured that all he received was white noise. A crack of thunder shook the canyon, sending a few pebbles rolling down the side of the sheer surface. Bumblebee was still standing, thank Primus, but he was rapidly losing energon from the deep tear in his side. They needed to get back to the base, back to Ratchet, but Optimus doubted that the medic would be able to get a strong enough signal to open a ground bridge if they couldn’t even get a signal out to the base.

Optimus did not feel hopeless, but he felt very, very alone. As the sound above him rose to a cacophony, a symphony of madness, he contemplated how he’d found himself in this mess.

#

The solar-cycle had started out ordinary—as ordinary as anything could be at Omega Outpost One. Optimus had awoken from recharge feeling very refreshed. Starscream was already up and in the fresher, humming to himself as he did his cyber-weekly polish. Optimus considered joining him, but he knew how important this little bit of self-care was to his partner. He’d knocked on the door, told Star that he was going to get a cube and that he’d be in the “command center” when he was done. He hadn’t heard Starscream’s reply through the door, but he assumed that it was something to the effect of “see you later”.

Optimus found the main energon cupboard empty when he’d opened it. The spare cupboard was only half full. Optimus stood before it, conducting a quick inner diagnostic scan. He could go for a few more solar-cycles before he needed a top-up. It was more important that the team fuelled up first. He shut the door and went to the command centre, as he said he would, so Starscream could find him easily when he was finished. The lack of energon weighed heavily on his CPU as he walked. They would need to secure some soon before the supplies ran dry completely. Perhaps, if there was no other pressing business, he could send the team out later to get some. The conflict was taking its toll. They knew where the energon was, at least. That was a start.

But not what Megatron was planning to do with it, and how the humans were involved. That also weighed heavily on his mind. He kept thinking about the humans, and dark energon. What had started as a simple conflict of contrasting ideals had bloomed into this sick war of attrition, of subterfuge, and of destroying a less advanced planet with Cybertronian poison. How had things gone so wrong?

Optimus went to the computer and started to work when he entered the “command centre” (oh, who was he kidding, it was a living room), attempting to take his mind off his concerns. The base was just coming to life around him. He could hear the gentle pattering of rain outside, a rarity for Nevada. He could hear the faint sounds of Bulkhead and Arcee training in their ‘gym’, and of Bumblebee whistling to himself in his quarters. He could hear the scraping of metal across rock. That was an unusual sound and his panic sequence activated. It took a few moments for him to recall that Ratchet had mentioned moving around the furniture in the med-bay, and he was over-reacting.

A pair of slender arms wrapped around his mid-section. Optimus flinched before realizing that it was Starscream, smelling of fresh polish. The low rumble of his engine against Optimus’s spinal struts was instantly comforting. “You seem troubled, my spark.” Starscream purred, nuzzling into his back. “You’re so tense.”

Optimus chuckled. “I frequently am. The burdens of leadership and such.”

“Oh, you are so not getting away with that.” Starscream moved, coming to plaster himself to Optimus’s side. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Optimus stiffened. “Not at this moment. So many things are on my processor, I fear I would be talking all solar-cycle if I were to start. So I will not. I simply wish to relax.”

“That’s fair.” Starscream stood on his pede-tips to give Optimus a kiss on the chin. “If you do want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

“Thank you, my spark. Have you fuelled today?”

“No, I still have a few solar-cycles to go until I need to. There isn’t much left.” Optimus tensed again. Starscream said nothing. “What are you working on?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

Optimus looked at the screen. He’d been mindlessly entering data, keeping track of their resource usage. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing beyond that. “Nothing interesting.”

“I can see that,” Starscream snickered. “Want to watch TV? Maybe we can put something we like on before the kids get here.”

Optimus looked up at the sound of small footsteps on the concrete floor. “Speak of Unicron and he shall materialize,” Starscream muttered to himself. Optimus smiled, giving Starscream a pat on the wing. They could already hear Miko excitedly explaining something to Raf and his polite dismissals of whatever wild idea she’d come up with today. Optimus’s engine turned over and made a sound he didn’t like, his nerves making his digestive tank churn. Starscream looked at him. “Ah, I see what’s going on. Are you going to tell them?”

Optimus sighed. “I have not decided yet. I know we have to, but I do not know how.”

“I don’t know if you have to tell them anything. I wouldn't, myself. But if you feel it important...I don’t know how much longer I’d put it off.” Starscream finished his task on the computer. “The longer you wait, the worse it will hurt to finally tell them the truth.”

“I suppose you know from experience.”

“Not my experience!” The seeker said in mock offence. “How dare you accuse me of telling the truth?! No, I was referring to my pesky trine-mates, who would “borrow” my things and then act like I didn’t know they were the ones who took them. They were always miserable by the time they finally owned up to it. Of course, I acted like I didn’t know to prolong their agony.”

Optimus laughed. Starscream, for all his past misdeeds, always had the funniest stories about his old adventures in lying, stealing and ordering other mechs around. “I suppose I should learn from your squadron.”

Starscream looked like he was about to launch into another story, but the kids came in with a flourish, Miko skipping into the room and darting over to both Optimus and Starscream. She was wearing her rain covering, water rolling down the yellow material and pooling on the floor. Her boots sloshed as she walked, sounding almost as if she was stepping in muck with every step. Raf folded his umbrella as he entered, putting the tool in the corner and hanging his coat from it. First, she gave Optimus a hug around his ankles, then Starscream. “Hi, guys!” She said cheerily.

“Good afternoon, Miko.” Optimus greeted her with a smile. He couldn't do it. He knew he couldn’t tell her that she was full of the blood of Unicron. “Are you having a good day?”

Miko nodded excitedly. “Yeah! I love the rain! The weather channel says it’s going to storm later. I’m so pumped!”

“Hello, welp.” Starscream’s tone was much gentler than his words suggested. Optimus knew that Starscream had a soft spot for the kids. It was surprising, really, given how little regard Starscream had previously shown for the planet, but it was welcome nonetheless. Miko stuck her tongue out at him in response and went over to the couch, where Raf was already on his laptop, some kind of cartoon his mother wouldn’t let him watch at home playing at high volumes. “Hello, smallest one.” He called out in greeting to Raf. “Are you enjoying the rain?”

Raf was drying his glasses on his shirt as Starscream prattled at him. “I feel like my bones are wet. Hi Screamer.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Raf finished drying his glasses and put them back on. “It’s what Ratchet calls you. And Optimus.”

“Yes, and I’ve told them both to stop.”

“But they don’t listen, and you don’t care.”

“No, I don’t. I just like to complain.” Starscream admitted. He walked over to the couch, peering at the TV. Optimus hid a laugh behind his servo. “You look like a drowned glitchmouse. Where’s smart-mouth?”

Raf stuck his tongue out at Starscream in response. “He’s out,” Miko answered, rifling around in her backpack. “His Mom asked him to do...something.”

“Yeah, look for the missing football team.” Raf scoffed at her. “It’s like you’re barely paying attention most of the time.”

“You pay too much attention,” Miko snapped back.

“Children.” Optimus warned them in his “discipline” voice, the same voice that once ended a major blowout between the Wreckers. Miko and Raf scooted a little farther away from each other on the couch, looking down at the ground. Optimus felt a little bit of satisfaction. He may not be commanding the whole Autobot army anymore, but he was still able to stop any conflict dead in its tire-tracks. “I would also like to know about what happened to the football team.”

Raf adjusted his glasses. “The high school football team went missing this weekend. They were out of town at an away game and they just vanished. They can’t even find the bus. Jack’s mom knows the mom of one of the players, so she got him to join the search party. I don’t know how far they’re going to get today, considering the rain and all. He’ll probably be here soon.”

Starscream froze. “Where were they coming from?”

“I think they were in Wells, driving back to Jasper. Why?” Miko asked innocently.

Starscream’s optics widened. “No reason, just curiosity.”

Miko gave Starscream a searching look, a frown crossing her features. Starscream tried to give her a “completely normal” smile, but Miko just shook her head at it. “You know, for being a Decepticon and all, you’re a really bad liar.”

Starscream grimaced, his wings twitching like he was about to spout off thirty-six examples of his prowess in deception, but they were all spared from an incoming tirade by the arrival of the rest of the team. Bulkhead ran over to Miko as soon as he saw her, and Arcee looked around for Jack. Bee sat next to the couch and gave Raf a gentle pat on the head. Starscream huffed and muttered something about lying and being an excellent actor and that Miko certainly believed him when he told her he liked her music and walked over to a different console, inputting codes to track the Nemesis flight path. Optimus watched carefully. Starscream still hadn’t relaxed, and his shoulders looked so right and so rigid that they must have been hurting. Optimus could hazard a guess as to the source of Starscream’s trepidation, but he would respect that Star wouldn't want it questioned in front of others.

Instead, he decided to chat with his team. “It is good to see you all this morning,” He said, catching the optics of his friends. “How was training?”

Arcee’s face-plate split into a smug grin and Bulkhead stared at his pedes. Bumblebee let out a long series of boops, beeps, and chirps, complete with servo gestures. Starscream slowly looked away from his computer, optics widening in confusion as Bee waved his arms above his head and then pounded his fists. Raf watched all of it carefully, prepared to translate (as usual). “He says that Arcee finally perfected her throws and tossed Bulkhead over her head like an empty barrel, and he landed right on his face-plate and skidded across the floor.” Raf chuckled as he finished. “I wish I would have seen that. That’s hilarious.”

Starscream started giggling, and Optimus had to turn away to hide his laughter. He didn’t want to make his poor personal Wrecker feel worse about his trouncing. The seeker left his console to give Arcee a high-five.

“Thank you.” Arcee brushed off her shoulder. “Don’t underestimate a slender frame. How’s the aft feeling, Bulk?”

“Hey! I landed on my face-plate.” Bulkhead corrected. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely offended or if he was just putting on airs. “My aft feels fine.”

Bumblebee chirped. “How about your face-plate?” Raf translated.

“It hurts,” Bulkhead admitted quietly. However, the group still heard him and enjoyed another laugh at his expense.

Arcee glanced over at the dripping coat in the corner and the little puddles left by Miko’s boots. “Rainy day?”

Raf nodded. “It’s supposed to storm later. Mom says we only get a few big storms a year, so we should enjoy them.”

“I hope Jack and June don’t get caught in it.” Miko added. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve been here, like, a year, and I still haven’t seen any storms yet! Never thought I’d miss the rain.”

The power flickered overhead. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. Optimus stiffened. He could feel the electricity in the air. He could feel it under his plating, dancing up and down his wires. Raf was wrong. It wasn’t going to be a big storm. It was going to be a huge storm.

Ratchet joined them in the “command centre”. “My instruments are on the fritz,” he announced. “Primus, I hate this planet.”

“We had storms on our world, old friend.” Sometimes it frustrated Optimus, how Ratchet couldn’t see how similar their worlds were. He wanted to go into a lecture about it, but he could see the tension in Ratchet’s whole frame. It wasn’t just the electricity in the air, he knew. Ratchet had helped conduct the tests on the children’s blood. If Optimus was upset, he had no doubt that Ratchet was even more so. The older bot didn’t handle helplessness well. “Though I am surprised that it is providing this much interference.”

“Electricity is electricity,” Starscream piped up. “Same properties, different places. Makes sense to me.”

“My instruments run off their own power source. It shouldn’t be happening, is what I’m saying.” Ratchet stopped beside Optimus, leaning up to whisper into his audial. “Did you tell them?”

Optimus shook his helm. “It was not the right time.”

Ratchet sighed. “Is there ever going to be?”

Optimus’s servos balled into fists. “I am at a loss, Ratchet. What would you do? What do you think I should do?”

“I don’t know either.” Ratchet stepped away from Optimus. Optimus glanced over his shoulder. Bulkhead and Miko were watching them closely, paying more attention to them than to the show Raf had finally decided on. Optimus understood immediately. Thunder rumbled outside, and the sound of rain started to permeate the whole place, the gentle plinking finally loud enough to be heard through the layers of rock.

Optimus turned away from Ratchet. Sitting around the base listening to the storm wouldn't get them energon, or help the humans. “Autobots,” he boomed out, drawing the attention of all in the room, “we must retrieve more energon to ensure that the base continues to function. Thanks to the tireless and excellent work of Bulkhead and Starscream, we have leads on where to find it. I want to make a plan, as a team, on how best to secure it.”

Starscream didn’t miss a beat and brought up the map he and Bulkhead had worked on, moving out of the way to allow the team to see it. “How much do we have left?” Arcee asked.

“We have half of the emergency cupboard remaining. While we are not completely without, it is better to get some sooner rather than later.”

Bulkhead got up, with some difficulty, and walked over to the map. “Our problem right now is how close some of these sites are to human population centres. There’s this one,” Bulkhead pointed at one in what appeared to be part of the desert, “but it’s close to a network of canyons. I don’t know how stable the area is. Geographically speaking.”

“So we either risk being seen or risk falling into a cave is what you’re telling us.” Arcee scoffed. “If you send me and Bee by ourselves, we can probably get it done. We’re the lightest.”

“It’s also right under the Nemesis’s flight path.” Starscream interrupted, bring up another map. “You might meet interference. It might not hurt to have a heavy hitter with you, just in case.”

“Do you think they’d bother beaming down to harsh your buzz?” Miko asked, her legs kicking under her. “Isn’t it kind of pointless? There are other places to get energon that they can go that won’t waste their time fighting with awesome battle warriors.”

“Awesome battle warriors? Have I been living at a different base?” Starscream dodged an errant piece of garbage sailing through the air, glaring at Bumblebee. “That almost connected with my face-plate! I just fixed that!”

Bumblebee let out a low beep. “He says that the next one will,” Raf translated with a smile.

Optimus chuckled, drawing his lover’s ire for a brief moment. Starscream’s optic twitched. After a few tense moments, Starscream let out a sigh. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he muttered to himself. “And I hate it.” He knelt down with a grunt of pain to get closer to Miko’s level. “To answer your question...energon is our fuel and our food. It’s what we fire out of our weapons. Since the Decepticons have been aggressively attacking, it stands to reason that they’d need more energon. I’m not saying they would, but knowing what I know, they’ll need fuel just as much as we do.”

Miko tilted her head. “Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

He looked at the map again. “There’s something else about this location. Something...I remember seeing this location, specifically, on one of our maps on the Nemesis.” Starscream frowned, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know about this, Optimus. How badly do we actually need energon?”

“It is a risk that we have to take, and we should address it soon.” Optimus too had a feeling, deep in his spark, that something was off about the location. It was irrational, he knew that, but truthfully it didn’t matter. Being caught by their enemies was one thing, and having to deal with being seen by humans and causing an intergalactic incident was quite another. “It is our most viable option.”

Starscream did not bother to hide his concern, looking up at him with wide, frightened optics. When Optimus met his gaze, he purposefully looked away. He inched closer to Optimus, just enough to be noticeable. Optimus could not share his true trepidation in front of his team. He had to remain hopeful and calm, despite his own misgivings. The burdens of leadership, he supposed. _But,_ he thought, looking at Starscream, _I also must bear the burdens of being in a loving relationship_. “However, we will take the whole team, with you and Ratchet at the base to provide back-up.”

“What about us?” Miko asked.

Optimus smiled down at the small girl. “You and Raf will assist Starscream and Ratchet. Make sure they don’t break anything while we are gone.”

“Hey!” Starscream protested.

“I was referring to Ratchet.”

The medic snorted.

Starscream perked up a little but still would not look him in the optics. Optimus turned to his team. “What do you think? Does this plan sound agreeable to you?”

The team looked at each other, then shrugged. “You’re the boss, boss-bot.”

Optimus grimaced internally. _That was what I was afraid of_. “We will depart shortly, then. Ratchet, prepare the ground bridge.”

Ratchet crooked a digit at Raf. “Get over here, then. Assist me.” The human boy jumped up off the couch and ran over, nearly tripping the much larger Ratchet in his eagerness.

Optimus felt a touch on his servo. He looked down and saw Starscream clasping his servo in his claws, rubbing his knuckle joints reassuringly. “I don’t like this.”

“I know.”

“But, I’ll like starving to death much less.” Starscream forced a pleasant expression onto his face-plate. “Just be careful, alright? Don’t do anything I would do.”

“I believe that phrase is usually worded differently.”

“I said what I said.”

Teasing was a good sign. Optimus planted a kiss on the top of Starscream’s helm. “I will return before you have time to notice my absence.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Starscream gave Optimus’s aft a friendly swat as he walked away to join his team and give them their briefing.

#

It was only when claps of thunder shook the sky that the advancing Insecticon horde faltered. Optimus supposed he should be grateful that the primitive programming of his foe’s CPUs were keeping them at a distance. Their red optics and their exhaust were visible in the rapidly cooling air. He could see through the torrent of rain that the bravest among the creatures were close enough that their snarling was audible over the cacophony of the storm. He wondered if they could smell the energon rapidly leaking from their injuries, and was reminded of old stories of spark eaters that he’d dismissed as legend he’d heard from his more suspicious coworkers at the archives. Maybe he should have listened better.

Optimus raised his servo, lining up a shot with his aiming software. There were no good options. He simply did not have enough energon to make enough of a difference in the enemy’s numbers. He doubted the team would. If they attempted melee, they’d be overrun. He wracked his CPU, his RAM, for anything that could help them, any old tactics or previous similar battles, and found nothing. He was well and truly helpless.

And he hated it.

“Boss-bot?” Arcee gently tapped him with her elbow-joint. “What are we going to do?”

Optimus had no answer.

He hated that more.

The lights started flickering at Omega Outpost One moments after the away team left.

The whole base groaned as soon as the bridge had dissipated. Raf went back to the couch and shuffled closer to Miko, pressing his small body against hers. She didn’t acknowledge it and continued to flick through the TV channels. Ratchet was walking back to the infirmary, and Starscream was staring at the map. He was sure, irrational as the thought was, that if he just stared at the Primus-damned thing for long enough, the significance of the location would become clear. But, despite his optics going out of focus, it simply wasn’t, and that was disconcerting. He was a rational, scientific mech. There was no way his “bad feeling” was superstition. There was an answer. He just wasn’t seeing it.

The lights flickered, and going out completely for a few moments, before returning dimmer than before.

Miko yelped. Starscream wanted to roll his optics, but he was equally discombobulated. He’d experienced freak storms, tense, unwinnable battles, and living on a hunk of junk limping through space. Losing power wasn’t something he’d experienced much, but if his experience taught him anything, it was that outages led to nothing good.

“Calm down, whelps,” Starscream said, trying to be reassuring. He could hear the children shaking, the couch trembling with the force of it. He walked over to the couch and knelt, lowering his optics and helm to their level. “Isn’t this a normal part of storms here?”

“Yeah, but...” Raf stammered, looking around frantically, “but I still don’t like it.”

“It’s kind of spooky being in here with the lights flickering, Screamer. It sounds like a haunted house in here without the machines going.” Miko shuddered. As if on cue, the lights flickered briefly. She scooted closer to Raf. “Geez. You’d think there’d be a generator or something. Is there?”

Starscream shrugged. He’d assumed so, but he wasn’t sure. “We’ll have to ask Ratchet.”

As if on cue, Ratchet walked in, looking around, raising a brow-ridge at Starscream’s posture. “Were the lights flickering in here, too?”

Starscream stood, his spinal struts aching with the effort, and nodded.

Ratchet groaned and made a bee-line for the console. “Who knows how long it will stay on. We should bridge the team home right now.” Ratchet insisted, starting to type in the coordinates. “Prime, come in.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little...over-cautious? The lights only flickered.” Starscream looked at the spot on the map Ratchet was zeroing in on. He was still scanning his sub-files, his sub-processes, anything, for information on that spot. He knew something was different about that site, but he still couldn't figure out why. It could be a weapons cache, perhaps, or some sort of hidden data that Megatron wanted to be sealed away. No, that one he would know about for sure. “Isn’t there a generator?”

“There is, but it requires energon to function. The base came with a human one, but it doesn’t have enough power to run our technology. Bulkhead and Optimus rigged it up so that it could use both, in case we ever ran out. Which is stupid, but it’s what they did.” Regardless of his friend’s opinion, Starscream agreed with Optimus. That made sense. Both sides had suffered from hunger during their war of attrition. Ratchet grumbled to himself. “Primus, what a solar-cycle.”

“We’ll just feed the generator some energon and go a few more solar-cycles without. No big deal.” Ratchet was not relaxing whatsoever, frantically tapping buttons on the keyboard. “Is it a big deal? Should I be concerned?”

“Yes, I think we have more than enough cause to be. If we lose power completely, we can’t bridge the team home,” Ratchet explained. “And they’ll be stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

“They can drive back.”

“With the ground that unstable? I’ll kick their afts if they try.” Ratchet grumbled, tapping on the keyboard. “Prime? Don’t ignore my comm, Primus damn you.”

Starscream wandered back over to the children. They looked relieved, but they were still tense. He couldn't blame them. He didn’t know much about these “haunted houses” Miko mentioned, but he supposed the rumbling thunder outside would seem scary, if he was that small and vulnerable. He wondered if there was anything he could say that would make them feel a bit better, perhaps more relaxed. Ratchet’s grunting drew his attention, and he could see the medic pacing and ranting. Optimus must have finally responded, and Ratchet was certainly unhappy about whatever was being said. The medic was certainly more...lively than usual. Starscream wondered if the electricity and the storm was affecting him, too.

Raf seemed to notice. “Is he okay?”

Starscream frowned. “I don’t know.” Raf’s face told him immediately that was the wrong thing to say. He tried to backpedal, putting what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face-plate. “I wouldn't worry too much. Everyone has off days.”

“Ratch has this covered. Me, I hope Jack’s okay,” Miko said sadly, looking at her phone. “I texted him a few minutes ago and he hasn’t responded. I hope he and his Mom aren’t out in this storm.”

“I’m sure that, even if they are, they’ll be fine.” Starscream tried to reassure her. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure. He was getting good at this, he noted. At lying to the kids. At hiding things from them. “He’s with other humans, right? He won’t be out there alone.”

“So you think he’s out there?” Miko said, panic in her voice.

The lights flickered again. Starscream politely excused himself and walked back to Ratchet. He appeared to be doing more harm than good on the children front. “I assume he’s not coming back.”

“No. Stubborn old...he’s determined to gather the energon first. He won’t see reason.”

 _I don’t think you’re seeing reason, either_ , Starscream thought but knew better than to say it. He also had a feeling that something was really wrong. Perhaps another outage was coming. “That’s Optimus for you.”

The lights flickered, staying off for a few more moments than the time before. _Crisis averted_ , Starscream thought.

Ratchet growled. “I don’t give a slag. We don’t need energon this badly. I can barely make out what he’s saying in the first damned place!”

Being stuck with an increasingly frustrated Ratchet was starting to get annoying. He tapped the side of his helm, activating his comm. “Come in, my love. Please tell me you’re at least close to being done.”

He heard only garbled white noise in response. Starscream groaned. Of course, the storm would affect their long-range communications. No news was good news, he supposed.

Until a scream rang clear over their comms, and the line went dead. The lights flickered, twice, and finally went out.

“Oh. Slag.”

Ratchet threw something at a wall. Starscream wasn’t sure what it was, but he was glad he was out of the line of fire if the crash was any indication.

Raf whimpered. “This is bad.”

“No slag, smarty-bot.” Starscream snapped. The child started to shake more. “That was uncalled for.” Starscream admitted quietly, “but I think we all know the predicament we’re in. The lights are going to come back on. This is just a normal...thing. This is what happens when you don’t use alternating current. Useless.”

“Yeah, okay, power outages happen all the time,” Raf said, “but I didn’t think it would happen at an old missile silo. Oh no, this isn’t good!”

“Why? There are no active weapons here. Of human origin.” Starscream corrected. He wasn’t sure what the Autobots had hidden around the base. He wasn’t going to go snooping, either. He’d rather not deal with being caught digging through his new colleagues' things.

“Yeah, but the whole place locks down automatically in the event of a power outage,” Raf explained. “So Miko and I are stuck here until the power comes back on.”

Ratchet stomped around the room, shaking the floor, his every pede step sounding with anger and frustration. “Primus damn it. Primus fragging damn it!”

“What is it now?” Starscream asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. This was shaping up to be a real terrible solar-cycle. He was starting to wish he’d just rolled over and settled in for an extra-long recharge.

“The machines are off.” Ratchet stormed over to the main console, the one that operated the ground bridge, and poked frantically at the keyboard. There was no response from the machine whatsoever, prompting Ratchet to give it a good kick. “And the bridge generator is off-line. Everything is offline! I knew connecting it all to the human’s electrical systems was a bad idea, but did anyone listen to me? NO!”

Starscream tapped the side of his head, activating his comm. “Optimus? Come in. The base has gone dark. Everything is offline.”

The sound that came through the comm was garbled. Starscream couldn't tell if it was even a voice at all, with all the feedback he was receiving. Another crack of thunder shook the base, prompting Raf to jump into Miko’s lap and Miko to wrap her arms around Raf and squeeze him for dear life. Ratchet was leaning against the console, glaring at the machine with gritted denta. Starscream tried again, making out a voice amidst the sound of rain. Optimus said...something. Starscream still couldn’t make it out. Starscream tried again.

“Did you find the energon?”

“Yes, but...we’ve encountered some interference. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Then what was that scream earlier?”

“How did you...”

“You left your comm open. I heard it," Starscream snapped.

“A cowardly surprise attack by a lone insecticon. It was dealt with.”

Insecticon? They were never very far from their beloved ‘queen’, Airachnid. If they were there, either she was there, or... “Optimus, hold position, we’re going to get the bridge generator back online, and then you’re coming home.”

“Why? What is happening, Starscream?!” Optimus demanded.

“It wasn’t the flight path that was the problem. You’re sitting on a clutch, and if one Insecticon has crawled out of its cave, more will follow!”

“WHAT?!” Ratchet roared.

“Understood. Get that generator back online. We’re counting on you.” Optimus replied. Starscream swore he heard a growl over the line before it was disconnected, but it was probably his imagination.

“Did I hear you right?” Ratchet asked. “They’re sitting on a fragging clutch of violent enemy combatants?”

“Yes,” Starscream stated simply and calmly. There was no use to both of them being panicked and angry. “We need to get that bridge back online. Does this Xal-forsaken place have a spare generator?”

Ratchet nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know if it can power the base.”

“All it needs to do is power the ground bridge. Everything else is secondary.”

Ratchet nodded. “Let’s go.”

“What about us?” Miko asked. Starscream knelt so he was at their level.

“With the power out, we don’t want you two underfoot. Stay here, we will return soon.”

The kids nodded, oddly docile. “The team is going to be okay, right?” Raf asked.

Starscream did not have it in him to lie again. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but we’ll do our best to make sure.”

“Ratchet? Ratchet, come in.” Optimus tapped the side of his helm again as if repeated tapping would make the signal clearer. He turned back to the team. The ground had stopped shaking, which was reassuring, but the longer they were out there, the sicker he felt. He felt as if something bad was doing to happen at any moment, from any direction. It was so foolish. Irrational, as Starscream would say. Maybe it was the rain and the electricity, interfering with his systems. Whether the sky was dark from heavy black clouds or from the coming of the night did not matter. What mattered was that the sky was dark, and they were working with their own natural bio-lights. The rain had been a steady drip when they’d arrived and had rapidly become a downpour. It was marginally better than the acid rain that occasionally plagued Cybertron, but only just. He had to assume the extraction was going well because he could barely see it. Arcee and Bulkhead would have said something if it wasn’t, right?

“What’s going on, boss-bot?” Bulkhead asked, grunting a bit as he re-positioned the extractor. “Is something going on back at the base?”

“That is what I am trying to discern,” Optimus said, replaying the scant few words that had come through in his memory. “I believe they mentioned something about a power outage.”

“At the base? That ain’t good.”

“Indeed. We should move quickly before our way home is compromised.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Arcee said, shaking her helm. “It’s Primus-damned creepy out here.”

Bumblebee chirped. “You said it, Bee,” Bulkhead said, his optics moving to the filling tank. “Whatever it is you said.”

Optimus heard something rumble in the distance. At first, he dismissed it as thunder, which had only increased in frequency since they’d been out there. But it wasn’t as low, nor as loud. It was bestial and close. He wanted to dismiss it, but it only grew louder and louder. “Autobots,” he said, “be alert. Something is coming.”

The team paused their extraction. “What is it?” Bulkhead asked. A flash of lightning illuminated their canyon, a surprise shadow appearing above them.

“It could be an animal, but I recall Starscream’s words earlier. We are right under the Nemesis’s flight path.” Something skittered above them, sending little rocks rolling down the sheer sides. “I sense danger approaching.”

Bulkhead’s servos started to shake around his extractor. “Seems like they would have jumped down by now. Never figured any of the cons for the subtle types.”

“Could be Soundwave.” Arcee subtle turned up the knob on the extractor, trying to get the job done as fast as possible. “He’s a master manipulator, and kind of a creep.”

“And a telepath. Primus damn it, that’s freaky.” Bulkhead shook his helm. Bumblebee beeped in agreement.

“Maybe you shouldn’t call him freaky, considering he might be right above us.” Arcee scoffed.

“Oh, slag.” Bulkhead dropped the extractor into Bumblebee’s servos, shocking the smaller bot, as his own servos transformed into guns.

Bumblebee beeped. “What was that?” Arcee asked.

Bulkhead gulped. “Guys, I don’t think that’s Soundwave up there.”

There was the sound of pedesteps on the rocky ground, the only warning before their enemy attacked. Bumblebee intercepted, the movement illuminated by a crack of lightning. He screamed in pain, clutching his side, his bright blue energon glowing in the dark. However, the attack worked against the Insecticon. Now, thanks to its haste, they could see the thing’s servos in the dark.

A snarl drew Optimus’s fire without thinking, and he transformed and fired his gun before consciously registering what he’d hit. The Insecticon lurched towards them, the shot to his shoulder not deterring it in the slightest. Its own disgusting energon was leaking from it’s lines, and it’s optics glowed eerily red in the dark. The other Autobots instantly had their guns ready, waiting for Optimus to give them permission. “Fire at will!” Optimus said, firing the first shot. The rest of the Autobots followed his example, the canyon lighting up with the hail of gunfire.

In a flash, it was over. The Insecticon lay dead on the ground, letting out a gut-wrenching scream as it died. “Is that it?” Bulkhead asked. “That’s all we get?”

“You’re complaining?” Arcee scoffed, turning back to the extractor.

“Just seems odd, is all, one of those things on their own.” Bulkhead shrugged.

“Optimus? Come in. The base has gone dark. Everything is offline.” Starscream’s voice, though faint, finally came through.

“I am here, Starscream. What happened?”

Starscream’s voice cut out again. Optimus groaned internally. He was very happy on Earth, but he did not enjoy the planet’s weather. “Starscream, I cannot read you. What is the situation at the base?”

Nothing, until something finally came through. Optimus could not be sure how much he missed. “Did you find the energon?” Starscream asked.

“Yes, but...we encountered some interference. Nothing we can’t handle.” Bulkhead replied confidently, his words betraying confidence his body didn’t seem to follow through on.

Starscream clearly wasn’t buying it. “Then what was that scream earlier?”

“How did you...”

“You left your comm open. I heard it.”

“It was a cowardly surprise attack by a lone insecticon. It was dealt with.” Optimus responded for his team, looking at the still smoking body of the Decepticon. It twitched, and Optimus suppressed a jump. It was only last synapses, nothing more, nothing less.

There was a brief silence on the line. “Optimus,” Starscream said frantically, “hold position, we’re going to get the bridge generator back online, and then you’re coming home.”

Optimus’s lines ran cold. “Why? What is happening, Starscream?!” He demanded. He didn’t like his lover’s tone, not at all. It was too urgent.

“It wasn’t the flight path that was the problem. You’re sitting on a clutch, and if one Insecticon has crawled out of its cave, more will follow!”

Optimus heard Ratchet bellowing on the other side of the comm. Though he could feel his spark pound in his chassis, Optimus responded calmly. “Understood. Get that generator back online. We are counting on you.”

Bumblebee gave Optimus a long, confused look. “We are in range of a clutch of Insecticons,” Optimus explained to the team. “And the bridge generator is offline at the base. We are to hold position until they can bridge us out.”

“A clutch!?” Arcee exclaimed. If her reaction was any indication, Optimus’s calm voice did nothing to soothe his team. “So any klik now, we could get swarmed by those...those things?!”

“We hold position,” Optimus said again, determined to keep them calm. “Ratchet and Starscream are working to get the bridge systems back online.”

“So we just have to sit here and wait to be torn limb from limb?”

“We sit here, at our last known co-ordinates, while we wait for our comrades to help us. There is nowhere else to go. We had to bridge here to avoid the risk of the ground collapsing beneath our feet. There is no guarantee that escape is possible on our own. Thus, we hold position. Do I make myself clear, soldier?” Optimus asked, making unblinking optic contact with Arcee. He couldn't have the away team undermining his decisions. He understood their fear, but he would not allow insubordination. That was how mechs got hurt. That was how brave mechs died.

Bulkhead went pale, staring at the top of the canyon. “Do you see that?”

Optimus turned around slowly. A bunch of red optics loomed above them, circling the canyon, a gnashing, low hissing sound filling the air. The exhaust of the newly hatched creatures left little puffs of smoke, casting the whole herd of the fearsome beasts in a smokey haze.

“Mayday, mayday!” Arcee screamed into her comm, jumping back in surprise. “We need assistance! We’re under attack by Insecticons!”

The lack of a bridge told Optimus all he needed to know about the status of their communications.

“Autobots, back to back!” He shouted, the team dropping what they were doing and coming to his side. Lightning flashed above, illuminating the true extent of their danger. Optimus could not tell, from his vantage point, where the onslaught of Insecticons ended. They were circling, growling, snarling, now audible over the storm as they gathered. They’d been so foolish. Of course, the Decepticons would have allowed Airachnid to deposit her clutch by a reliable source of energon. It was double protection. It would be genius, if only it wasn’t so terrifying.

“Come in Omega Outpost One,” Optimus tapped the side of his helm frantically. “Requesting immediate extraction.” His only response was static.

Optimus was reassured by the presence of his soldiers at his back, but he still was not sure they’d make it out. “Boss bot,” Arcee asked quietly, “what should we do?”

“Yeah,” Bulkhead piped up, “should we try to get out of here? We’re sitting pidgeonoids down here!”

Optimus took stock of his own internal energon stores. He had to conserve ammunition, lest he run himself out of fuel. He wondered if the team was in the same state. “We stand, we watch, and we fight. They may choose not to engage. If they do, they lack projectiles-based weaponry. We outlast them, and once we get a signal through, we bridge home.”

“What if they outlast us?” Bulkhead asked.

“They. Will. Not.” Optimus growled, his servos humming with energy as he readied himself for a fight.

The only light in the dank basement came from the torch clasped within Starscream’s shaking grip. He was grateful that they were deep enough to muffle the storm outside. He’d never anticipated being so grateful to be far from the sky, but he’d also never anticipated most of his life. Ratchet’s servos moved slowly but surely as he tried to disconnect the human’s generator from theirs to power their technology. He barely even flinched at the dying of the light, his entire processor focused on the task before him. Starscream admired his determination. He found himself looking around, so sure that something was going to emerge from the darkness and drag them both to the pit. He tried to remind himself that he was a grown mech, no longer a sparkling, but so many things had gone wrong in such a short time that a spark-eater lurking behind obsolete human technology didn’t seem so far-fetched.

“Keep the light steady, Starscream.” Ratchet warned. “I need to see the generator, not the wall behind it.”

“Sorry,” Starscream muttered, refocusing the light. Thunder cracked outside, hard enough to shake the base. Starscream let out an involuntary sound as little pebbles rolled down the wall. It reminded him of some of the electro-storms back home. He’d flown in them many times, especially right before the war when Vos started to run dry because energon waited for no one. He could see the bright flashes of light, smell the electricity in the air, and hear his squadron’s panic as they tried to pull off an emergency landing in a torrential downpour. He realized he was drifting up the wall again with the torch-light, and refocused it on the generator. Ratchet dug around in his subspace until he retrieved a small wrench, huffing to himself as it slipped from his digits.

“Fragging Primus.” Ratchet swore as the generator started...for a few moments before sparks started to spray out of it. “Fragging Primus!”

Starscream stepped back, yelping as some hit his pedes. He tapped his audial, hoping that the comms would at least be working again. He still heard static over the line. “If we can’t get the generator working, what are we going to do?”

Ratchet sat back on his heels. “I don’t know. Wait for the storm to blow over, or hope that the team can drive back without being spotted.”

“They’re on the other side of the country, on top of an Insecticon clutch.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Ratchet snapped. “Slag, slag, slag!” He stood up and stomped into the darkness, bumping into something and letting out a scream.

Starscream looked back at the generator. It had finally stopped sparking, but there was a scent of burning plastic emanating from it. It was probably for the best. The human’s electrical grid wasn’t equipped to power their technology for more than a few kliks. Starscream tried to find Ratchet in the dark room with his torch. The medic had slid down the wall and was staring into his servos. “One strike of electricity, from this stupid, backwards planet and we’re left like this.”

“Serves us right, for underestimating it,” Starscream said, trying to lighten the mood. Ratchet managed a small grin. “If we can get some energon, can we get our generator back online? The better one?”

“Yeah. Right now...we’re not doing the best, for usable energon. You know that. We’ve been prioritizing using it for fuel or refining it for medicine. We have some, but it might not be enough to restart the damned thing.” Ratchet leaned his helm back, hitting the wall with a sharp “thunk”. “I should have been on top of this.”

“We all should have been.”

“Don’t try to deflect my personal responsibility, Star.”

“I’m not. We all live here, we all use the same supplies. It’s on all of us.” Starscream checked his internal chronometer. It had been half a groon since they’d heard from the team when the storm scrambled their signals. Half a groon since he’d heard Optimus’s voice, and half a groon since they’d heard the death knell of one Decepticon. Starscream didn’t even want to speculate on what could have happened in the meantime.

Another scream went through the comm, the line crackling before going dead. Ratchet froze. “We’re running out of time. Any klik...”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Starscream leaned against the wall too. “The worst part is not knowing, but the best part is not knowing. I can’t deal with knowing Optimus could be out there, surrounded by enemies...”

“And it’s the nearest source of usable energon, or else this wouldn't even be a problem.” Ratchet sighed. “I hate this. We should have...”

“Enough with the shoulds!” Starscream snapped, surprising Ratchet. “Shoulds are pointless, they just use up processor space without being helpful. Shoulds waste energy, which you’ve pointed out we don’t have!” Starscream glared at him. “We don’t need _should_ right now. We need _can_.”

Ratchet snickered. “Did you learn that in your therapy module?”

“Does it matter if I did?” Starscream retorted. “Tell me, Ratchet. What can we do, right now?”

Ratchet thought. “We can fix the generator."

“Then let’s fix the generator.” Starscream looked at it. “Hmm. You said the other generator, the one from the ship, runs on energon?”

“Yes. That’s the problem.”

“What if re-hybridize it?” Starscream suggested. “They’re still combined, of course, but if we re-combine them instead of trying to separate it...we can bypass the flaws of either, and we don’t have to worry about replacing it. Maybe we can build something that can power the bridge and keep the lights on at the same time.”

“Do we have time to do that?”

Starscream smirked. “Why does everyone forget that I have a degree in engineering? Give me thirty kliks, and you’ll see what I can do.”

#

It took him twenty. The internet was truly a magnificent thing, allowing him to acquire schematics for the generator within kliks.

The generator was back on, but they couldn't lock onto Optimus’s signal. The crashing outside told Starscream, loud and clear, that the storm was likely the culprit. He cursed to himself.

“Damn it all.” Ratchet seethed. “We fixed the damn generator, for what? We still have no way of getting them back.”

“At all?”

“Well, we do have a transponder, but...”

“But what?”

“We have to physically set it near them for it to work. I don’t know if I can get there in time.”

“Then I’ll go.”

Ratchet let out a long, deep exhale. “I can’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“You know damn well why not, Starscream.” Ratchet glared at him.

“You can’t make me, or stop me, from doing anything, to be clear.” Starscream snapped. Ratchet looked away guiltily. Starscream rubbed his temple with his digits. This was getting them nowhere. “Look. I’m offering. I can get there faster than you, even with the storm. I’m a trained warrior, with millennia of battle under my girdle. I’ve flown through storms before. I might be the team’s last chance. Can we really afford not to send me?” Ratchet was silent. The kids huddled in the corner crept forward. Starscream gritted his denta. “I have to do something. Optimus is out there. I can’t just...”

“That’s precisely the problem. You’re precious to Optimus. If anything happens to you, and he knows I authorized it...”

“He’s a grown mech and a commander. I won’t let him punish you.” Starscream's optics narrowed. “You can’t expect me to sit here while my only remaining family is torn apart by mindless beasts. I’m going no matter what. I’m asking you to help me, or get out of my way.”

Ratchet looked at Starscream with a long, evaluating stare. Starscream subtly adjusted his posture, hoping to convey the seriousness he felt. Then, the medic laughed. “That’s what I expected from Optimus’s partner.” He smirked. “He can kill me later. Let’s make sure he lives long enough to lecture us.”

Miko cheered. Raf clapped, and Starscream felt like a true hero, for the first time in a very long time.

“You’re going to need weapons. Are you only packing those null rays?” Ratchet asked.

Starscream nodded. He wasn’t sure he liked Ratchet’s tone. He was a seeker and an air commander, he didn’t need fancy weapons when he wasn’t flying (unlike some bots he knew). “In robot mode, yes. I have a turret in my alt mode. A turret, I’ll remind you, that mowed down many on your side.”

“Don’t get defensive, I’m just checking!” Ratchet thought for a moment. “That just won’t do.” Ratchet slowly stood. “Let’s go to the armoury.”

“Armoury?” Starscream asked. “You have an armoury? How?!”

“What, did you think we only came with our equipped weapons? We were fleeing Megatron.” Ratchet smirked at him. “We expected to fight the best of your former faction. We have some really, really big guns.”

Starscream laughed. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t pursue your ship all those cycles ago.”

“Can I come?” Miko pleaded. “I want to see the really big guns!”

“Me too! For...science.” Raf pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Ugh, fine.” Ratchet rolled his optics. “Hop on Starscream’s shoulders. I don’t need you two getting underfoot.”

Starscream clenched for a moment. He hadn’t carried the children much, as they usually preferred their Autobot best friends. What if he dropped them? What if he hurt them?

Still, he held out his servos, allowed the kids to climb into them, and gently lifted them to his shoulders. Miko and Raf settled into the metal there, small points of pressure he barely registered. They were so damned small. All humans were, really. They didn’t deserve what had been done to their planet. He banished the thought from his processor. He could deal with that later. Optimus needed his help NOW. He followed briskly after Ratchet.

#

The armoury was deep underground, even below the level of the generators. Starscream assumed that this was done to prevent the Decepticons from tracing the unique energy signatures of Cybertronian technology, and he admired their foresight, as inconvenient as trying to fit two kids and two grown mechs in the small hallway was. Ratchet tried a code to open the door, careful not to let Starscream read it over his shoulder, but grumbled to himself. _Shows how often they use their fancy weapons_ , Starscream thought. Raf and Miko were practically vibrating with excitement on his shoulder. Ratchet gave up after two tries, took three steps back, and kicked the weak human metal open. The lights came on automatically as the door came off it’s hinges, the blue glow of Cybertronian technology almost as bright as the fluorescent overhead. Weapons lined every wall, from guns to swords to knives. Starscream was expecting quite the cache, but this was more than he’d ever anticipated. He openly gaped. “How did you fit all this on your ship?”

“Very, very good planning.” Ratchet started looking around, as though he was looking for a specific weapon. Any of the ones on the wall would do, in Starscream’s processor, but Ratchet seemed set on something. “I have something specific for you. Hold on.”

Starscream nodded, looking around more himself. He wanted to make sure the children got a good view of the armoury because he doubted they’d be allowed back in here. “What do you think, kids?” he asked.

“This is incredible!” Miko said. “Everything’s so awesome!”

“It’s really cool,” Raf said. “I’ve only seen things like this in video games. I had no idea that some of these things were even real!”

“Giant robots and sci-fi weapons. You whelps have really hit the jackpot.” Starscream joked. 

“Damn right!” Miko responded, fist-pumping. 

“Language!” Ratchet chided. 

“Whoops. Sorry.” Miko said bashfully.

Ratchet stopped, pausing in his search, blocking what he’d found from view with his body. He blew some dust off an old trap, smiled, and pulled it off with a flourish. He stepped back, gesturing at his prize like a magician’s assistant. The weapon beneath was huge. One of the biggest he’d ever seen. He wasn’t entirely sure he could pick up the metal monstrosity, let alone fire it. “This was built for Optimus by Perceptor, one of our best scientists.”

“Perceptor? This doesn't really seem like his style. I thought he was more...ships and the like.”

“Not entirely, I suppose. It was developed by Perceptor, built by Wheeljack, designed to only be wielded by a Prime. But, I guess you’ll do.”

Starscream gulped, too shocked to respond to the dig. “It’s half my size.”

“Well, yeah, it was built for Optimus.” Ratchet picked up the gun, struggling with it himself. “He doesn’t like to use it. It eats a lot of ammo, and it’s very bloody and brutally violent.”

“It was built by a Wrecker. That’s not a surprise.”

“Yeah, it’s not a merciful weapon. But it’s perfect for indiscriminately taking out Insecticons.”

“Damn right it is.” Starscream snapped out of his stupor, stepping forward to inspect the weapon.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Miko fawned over the gun. It wasn’t that pretty, not to him. It had no decorative lights and was all made of grey, dingy metal. Starscream agreed with Optimus; it wasn’t his style at all. “What’s it called?”

“We didn’t get around to that part. Perceptor wasn’t terribly creative. We called it the BFG. It’s got a mini-gun mode and an energy blast mode, so I thought we should call it the Sweet Primus Blaster, but Wheeljack didn’t like it so BFG stuck.”

“There’s an Earth video game with a gun called that too!” Raf said cheerily. 

“Yeah,” Miko added, “the big--”

“Big fragging gun. Watch the language.” Ratchet warned the kids. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s…” Starscream looked over it, tilting his head, “useful. How are we doing for ammo? Can we spare the energon?”

“This little sparkling takes its own specialized ammunition, and we brought a lot for it. I think a couple of our more...violent compatriots anticipated seeing it being used frequently. I can outfit you with the straps.” Ratchet looked from Starscream to the gun. “Will it fit in your cockpit with the transponder?”

“It’s going to have to,” Starscream said, trying to pick up the weapon and struggling, “because I can’t carry it in my alt mode otherwise.”

“I wish I could see you fight with it,” Miko swooned. “I bet it’s going to be so awesome.”

“I’m going to get torn apart by recoil. But, it will probably look pretty awesome. I’ll try my best to fight in such a way that I can give you a good story when I get back.”

“Yay!” Miko cheered. 

“I can’t wait for you all to get back!” Raf said happily. “I just know you will.”

“Thanks,” Starscream said softly. He wasn’t optimistic, at all, but Raf’s hope was contagious. It made him feel like he’d get back in one piece, with his entire new family behind him. 

Once they were back upstairs, the whole thing started to become more real. He was really going to go out into this storm, after recovering from a massive injury, and potentially fight hordes of vicious enemies. He was starting to get worried. He thought to himself about what Optimus would do. Optimus would have already been out the door on his way there. He’d be afraid, but on the surface he’d be calm and collected, ready to take on any challenge to protect others. He needed to do that. He needed to be more like Optimus. He took a deep intake and steeled his nerves. First, before any of that, he needed to transform. “Alright, kids. This is where you get off. I need to get into my alt mode.”

“Awe, man,” Miko whined, climbing into Starscream’s servo. Raf slowly climbed down his arm, settling in Starscream’s palm. The seeker passed his two passengers over to Ratchet. As soon as they were off, Starscream took a deep intake and transformed into his alt mode, for the first time since his injury. Rather than painful, it felt right. 

He popped his cockpit open and allowed Ratchet to set the transponder inside. Ratchet also decided to add some first aid supplies, just in case. Then, with some help from the kids, Ratchet strapped the mini (ha! Yeah, right) gun to the top of his alt mode. It was a little bit wobbly, but it wouldn’t have fit in the cockpit. He got the sense that Optimus wouldn’t mind if the BFG was lost, but he still didn’t want to risk the ire of the kids. 

Ratchet nodded, satisfied at his work. He walked over to the console and pressed a button, opening the huge garage door of the base. Starscream could already feel the electricity on his derma, the opening to the base already slick and wet with precipitation, the thunderclaps almost deafening. Ratchet shivered. “I don’t envy you, Screamer. Godspeed.” 

Starscream let out a little noise of appreciation. Not wanting to prolong the experience further, he kicked on his engines and flew off into the heart of the storm. 

Warning lights starting to flash in the corner of Optimus’s vision. Perhaps he should have fuelled up before they’d left, or taken some energon with them as a precaution, but he would go down fighting even if it killed him. He hadn’t expected to end up like this, though. He was too experienced a commander to have forgotten that no mission was an easy mission or a routine mission, yet still, he had. 

Optimus glanced behind him at his team. Bumblebee was strong, despite the wound in his side. However, the more he leaked, the closer the Insecticons got. It was like the creatures were drawn to the smell of fear and energon, growing hungrier and hungrier as the two scents combined and filled the static-laced air. As they grew closer, one thing became abundantly clear: they were outnumbered. Badly. Optimus was going to make sure his team survived if nothing else. Perhaps his scanners were wrong. Perhaps his optics were deceiving him. Perhaps there were much less of them than they registered. 

A voice in his CPU that sounded suspiciously like Starscream made itself known. _Optimism is pointless_ , it said. _What are you going to do about this? How will you make sure things go as well as you want them to? By lying to yourself?_

No. He was going to make sure they survived, by any means necessary. 

“Autobots,” he said, “If we have to fight, I will shield you. Get behind me, and allow me to take the brunt of the attacks. That is the only way you will survive this.”

“No!” Arcee yelled over the storm. “I refuse. I’ll die before I let that happen, boss-bot.”

“What she said,” Bulkhead added. “We can protect ourselves. You’re Optimus Prime. We won’t let you die here.”

Bumblebee let out a noise of agreement. Optimus sighed. That had been a pointless gambit. “Then we will survive. All of us. We will outlast them.”

“That’s the Prime we know!” Arcee gave him a little nudge with her elbow joint.

Optimus smiled, despite knowing they couldn’t see it, despite knowing that it was false. Still, he would not go down without a fight. He had someone waiting for him at home, and that was more than enough reason to stand his ground. 

Starscream swore to himself, as he was buffeted by the storm, that he would get off this horrible planet, come the pit or high magma. Starscream’s newly-welded wings shook in the high winds, jostling the precious cargo he carried within his cockpit. He could feel the BFG scrape along his back, likely leaving lines he’d have to buff out. However, it remained steady, despite the barrel rolls and diving he had to do to avoid the lightning striking all around him. He could feel dents and welts starting to rise, but Starscream did not falter, did not lose focus. He had to get the beacon there before the team was overrun by Insecticons. The whole ordeal was uncomfortably close losing Skyfire. He kept hearing his late friend’s voice in his CPU, telling him to turn back. He knew it was just a memory, one that sometimes forced itself out of his RAM to replay, his own processor sabotaging him. He hadn’t been strong enough to go after Skyfire. His frame would have been ripped apart. This time, things would be different. He’d lost family before. He refused to lose more. Not if he could help it.

A crack of thunder, dangerously close, brought him back to his task. Earth’s weather was, to put it lightly, completely insane. He couldn’t remember ever dealing with a storm like this on Cybertron, and he’d flown there for millennia. The air around him was full of electricity, and it was interfering with his in-flight systems as much as it had interfered with Omega Outpost One’s instruments. Rain fell in sheet-like torrents, buffeting him as he pushed through the wind, almost hard enough to set off his pain sensors. The sky was so dark that it was only when lightning split the sky that he could see at all. A lesser mech would have turned back when they first felt the static electricity crackle across their wings, but Starscream was determined to push through it. He tried to lie to himself, and tell himself that he’d flown through worse...it was hard to tell if he was succeeding or failing at any given moment.

“ _You’re a seeker. You need to stop being so scared.” Skyfire’s words came to the front of his processor, almost flashing like a warning. “If anyone’s qualified to do this, you are.”_

 _He’s right,_ Starscream thought. _I’m the only one who can help them now. If I let them down…._

Lightning shot through the sky, nearly connecting with his right-wing. Starscream banked hard to avoid it, diving lower, right into the wind. A surprisingly strong gust sent him spinning, rapidly losing control, but he pulled out at the last klik, spinning into the wind and allowing his natural aerodynamics to help him course-correct. Despite it all, he knew he was going in the right direction. Luckily for him, he’d downloaded the map into his local databanks, so he didn’t have to worry as much about interference. He didn’t need it anyway. He knew, in his spark, that he was flying towards Optimus.

He was starting to put more stock in Knock-Out’s insistence that they were conjux endura, but then he’d have to admit that KO was right, and he hated that.

He wasn’t so lucky with the next bolt of lightning. It hit him, scrambling everything for a brief moment before the electricity travelled down his body and out through the tail. _Interesting_ , Starscream noted. It was much less painful than he’d expected. Certainly less so than, say, a sword through the midsection. He could even still feel the BFG’s energy signature on his back. The strike hadn’t been able to stop Perceptor’s pride and joy. Starscream let out a whoop and focused his energy to his thrusters. He could go faster, now that he knew he wouldn’t be hurt by the fearsome lightning. He surged forward, forcing himself through the gusts, through the rain, dodging some lightning strikes but bracing for impact with others. His Earth alt-mode was proving useful, more than he’d ever anticipated. He would get there. He would push on. He would save the Autobots, and, the petty voice in his CPU said, they wouldn’t be able to give him any slag for quartexes.

With each flash of lightning, Optimus saw a new Insecticon, circling, snarling. He cursed, loudly, the sound drowned out by the storm. Insecticons were inconvenient on a good solar-cycle. One never considered how terrifying they could be, since they were so easily beaten in their mindlessness. He’d never understood why Megatron, for his obsession with resources, would waste them on these things. Now, when all he could see in the darkness was a sea of red optics, Optimus was forced to concede that they were, indeed, a threat.

“It’s not looking good,” Arcee whispered, her frame shaking as it pressed into his. “The ground’s too unstable to flee. And if we try to get out, we’ll be eaten alive.”

“Don’t say that!” Bulkhead snapped, tension and anxiety rolling off of him. “That won’t happen!”

“It might,” Arcee retorted, gulping. “At this rate…”

“I cannot contact Omega Outpost One,” Optimus admitted. “The storm is interfering. We are on our own.” Optimus forced his voice to maintain his usual even tone. It would not do to break down in front of his comrades. He knew they wouldn’t judge him. They weren’t those kinds of bots. However...if even a Prime was scared, they would lose all hope. That he knew for a fact. That was the burden the matrix had bestowed upon him, of never being able to give up, not even for a second. “So far, they are only gathering. This could be an intimidation tactic. We have time to formulate a plan.”

“Any ideas?” Arcee asked.

“None,” Optimus said quietly. “There are so many of them. I do not know if we have the energon to spare to kill them all.”

“So we just sit here and wait to die?” Bulkhead snapped, fear raising his voice two octaves. Bumblebee, judging by the movement behind him, elbowed Bulkhead in the side.

“No one is dying today!” Optimus shouted, both at his team and at their foes. “We will get out of this. We just need to keep calm. We are Autobots. This is not enough to scare us!”

“I’m scared,” Bulkhead admitted.

“Do not give into it. This is easy. Remember the battle of Tyger Pax? It seemed like we were outnumbered then. And we defeated the Decepticons. We forced them back. We are the best of the best of the Autobots. We will get through this.”

“Okay.” Bulkhead looked out over the expanse. “No promises.”

Optimus bowed his helm, offering a prayer to Primus. _Please,_ he begged, _let us get out of this. Let my people get out of this if it be your will. Let me die in glorious battle, in the final thrust to end Decepticon tyranny. Please, let me see him again._

Optimus’s helm snapped up at the sound of firing from above. At first, he assumed that the Insecticons had somehow called for back-up from the Decepticon army and finally decided to start their final assault, but he couldn’t feel the tell-tale warmth of a blaster shot sailing past him. Indeed, the sounds of gunfire were far enough away to be drowned out by the rain. He looked up, trying to see what was going on. Insecticons were falling down the side of the canyon, their optics dead and their intakes open, energon leaking out. Something up there was killing them, taking them out in droves. It couldn’t be Ratchet. He wouldn’t have been able to drive here in time. That only left….no….

“Boss-bot!” Arcee shouted. “We have backup!”

“It’s Starscream!” Bulkhead said in disbelief. “It’s fragging Starscream!”

Bumblebee let out a loud beep that sounded almost like a whoop.

Optimus zoomed in. What he saw was breath-taking. Starscream was effortlessly taking out Insecticons from the air, weaving and diving expertly despite the storm. Despite...something on his back, he couldn’t quite make it out, he was still fighting with his usual elegance and skill. He was circling above the canyon, mowing down Insecticons left and right, sending their corpses tumbling down the canyon. He was using his null-rays, Optimus noted, to slow them down, and using his in-built turret to finish them off. That was why it looked so easy. It was a great strategy, and Optimus was starting to regret not bringing the seeker along with them initially. Still, more were coming, but Starscream didn’t let up. He was untouchable.

Then, he transformed and landed.

The show really started then. Whatever had been on Starscream’s back dropped to the ground unceremoniously, Starscream rolling his shoulder-joints like he was glad to be rid of it. Optimus panicked for a second, worried that he’d given up his airborne advantage. One very brave and very stupid con charged him, and Starscream laughed, raised his arm, and stabbed it through the chassis with his claws. The thing fell, and Starscream raised his null rays again. “Any of you stupid enough to try that again?”

The Insecticons charged him. “That’s what I thought.”

Optimus waited with bated breath as they started swarming his lover, but they were knocked back, sent flying with a wave of energy. Once the bodies had finished falling, it became clear what Starscream had done. He was holding the BFG, built for Optimus by one of his dearest scientist friends. That was what Starscream had strapped to his back, he realized. It was nearly half his lover’s size in his robot mode, yet he was still handling it expertly. Still, Optimus couldn't even be angry. It was brilliant. Starscream switched the weapon from energy blast mode to mini-gun mode (if the BFG could be called ‘mini’) and started shooting, mowing Insecticons down left and right, bright red energon misting the air as the enemy was cut down.

It was an impressive show of force, but one that couldn’t last forever. The gun would run out of ammunition eventually. But now the Autobots had a fighting chance.

“Autobots!” Optimus called out over the noise of the storm and the battle above. “Assist Starscream! Eliminate any enemy that gets close! We take no prisoners!”

The team let out a battle cry and open fired. The sky was alive, not just with lightning and thunder and rain, but with energon bullets and spilled energon and the sounds of battle.

#

Starscream did a flip as he landed. _Ever so dramatic_ , Optimus thought. In any other circumstance he would have rolled his optics, but now...he was happy, despite his deep irritation at Starscream’s flippant attitude towards his own survival. His spark was almost throbbing with joy as Starscream straightened up and met all their stunned optics and open intakes, the BFG slung over his shoulders and wings. “Are you going to thank me?” The seeker laughed, striking one of his characteristic poses. “I risked my pristine paint job for you sorry afts.”

“And your life!” Optimus blurted, breaking the Autobot’s silence. “You are still being repaired, do you have any idea how foolish and reckless…”

“And here I thought I was being brave and heroic.” Starscream crossed his arms and rolled his optics. “Of course I know how stupid this was! I wouldn’t have risked my life coming out here if I didn’t have to!” Starscream pulled the transponder out of his subspace and set it on the ground, nudging it open with his pede. “If Ratchet had come instead, you’d all be offline.”

“I...” Optimus couldn't even argue with that point, but he was still upset. It was irrational, and he knew that. Were he in Ratchet or Starscream’s position, he would have made the same decision. But it was different when he thought about his Starscream. He’d already had to face losing him once. Despite his joy and his pride, he wasn’t thrilled about going through that again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Starscream said smugly. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” Optimus said simply. Starscream frowned but didn’t argue.

“That was...one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.” Bulkhead sounded a little starstruck. “And I was a wrecker. I’ve seen a lot of cool slag, but that was up there.”

Starscream gave a little bow. “That means a lot, coming from the elite Wrecker unit. I wish Breakdown were still alive. I’d love to rub this in his face-plate.”

The transponder beeped as it was starting. Soon the signal would go out, Ratchet would be able to lock to their location, and bridge them all home. Starscream pulled some bandages out of his subspace, walking over to Bumblebee and administering first aid as they waited for the machine to boot. The team was silent as they waited, processing the experience they’d just finished dealing with. Arcee was still, watching Starscream patch up Bumblebee’s wounded side. Bulkhead was smiling to himself, looking out at the sea of bodies at the bottom of the canyon. The transponder beeped twice, signalling that there was a lock on its signal. With another beep a ground-bridge opened, finally allowing the team to return to the base, their hard-won energon in tow.

The second Starscream stepped out of the swirling mass of energy that was ground-bridge technology, he was greeted with a shout and a wrench flying through the air, aimed expertly at his helm. Starscream avoided the wrench of doom, stepping out of the way just in time. “Hey!”

“You colossal aft-head! You were supposed to help the team, set the transponder, and get everyone home safely. Why are you covered in energon, and why is the BFG still smoking? What did you do?!” Ratchet bellowed, using his superior height to yell directly into Starscream’s audials.

“Yeah!” Miko shouted. “Tell me everything. Come on Star, you told me you would!”

Starscream gave Miko a small grin and turned to Ratchet. Starscream met his optics, refusing to back down. “I had to thin out the advancing Insecticons. And you are not my CO. I don’t answer to you.”

“I stapled your organs back together, I think I qualify as your commanding officer!” Ratchet growled. “You were stupid and reckless, and you could have gotten yourself killed!”

Starscream bit his lip. While Ratchet’s tone was angry, bordering on furious, his face-plate had concern etched all over it. His optics were wide and wet, his intake down-turned, and his jaw clenched. Starscream couldn't blame Ratchet for his fear, or his rage. Ratchet was, outside of Optimus, his best friend at Omega Outpost One. He knew that the attachment went both ways. Still, he knew he’d make the same choice again and again. “I did what I had to. There were more Insecticons than I’d anticipated. I had to make some snap decisions.”

“By acting like a Wrecker?” Ratchet retorted.

“What’s wrong with being a Wrecker?” Bulkhead asked, his optics narrowing.

Bumblebee let out an angry beep, pointing to the gash in his side. Ratchet gave Starscream a last stern look and walked over to Bee, finally tending to the wound Starscream had patched up. Starscream picked up the wrench and walked over to Optimus, who was hanging back by the bridge. “Forget any of the Cybertronian relics. This is the Autobot’s most powerful weapon.”

Optimus chuckled. “Yes, I agree. I do not have your reflexes, and I can confirm that when it connects it hurts like the pit.”

Starscream opened his arms, inviting Optimus to give him a proper hug. Optimus bent down and wrapped his strong arms around Starscream’s middle, lifting him into the air with the force of the embrace. “We’re alright, right?” Starscream asked, the question weighing heavily on his processor.

“We are.” Optimus sighed. “I cannot be angry with you. You made the decision I would have, and it would be wrong of me to judge you for it. Now that the fear has left my spark...it was exceedingly cool to watch you fight once again.”

Starscream preened. “I’m glad you think so. It’s good to know that I haven’t lost my touch.”

“I do not think such a thing is possible.” Optimus smiled at his lover, bending down for a kiss.

“Enough of that,” Ratchet snapped, walking over and standing before them with his arms crossed, waiting for them to separate. “Starscream needs a scan.”

“Can’t it wait? I’m fine.” Starscream protested, his optics not leaving Optimus.

“You might not know if you opened a suture deep inside. You could bleed out in your sleep and be dead by tomorrow.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“And you’re a moron.” Ratchet said. “Optimus, talk some sense into him.”

“Starscream,” Optimus said gently, “go with Ratchet. I will wait for you in our quarters.”

“Alright,” Starscream rolled his optics, “but you better make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?! All I am asking is you undergo a basic medical check-up, not solve one of Alpha Trion’s equations.”

“Make it up to me that I have to stop kissing you.”

Optimus looked away. “I see. That is fair. Perhaps you should have one more kiss before you go. Just as an incentive.”

Starscream leaned forward, but Ratchet stepped between them with a disapproving frown. “Okay, you’re coming to the med bay before I have to witness more of...whatever this is.” Ratchet grabbed Starscream by the wing and hauled him from the room. Optimus laughed as Starscream sputtered and fought, and soon the team was laughing with him. 

Starscream took three steps into their shared room and collapsed dramatically on the berth. Optimus laughed, setting his datapad down. He’d only just started the first chapter of _The Tale of Starbreaker,_ and it was quite riveting. Starscream slowly moved his helm towards Optimus, his intake open and panting. “I think Ratchet is mad at me.”

“You think so?”

“He was very...thorough.” Starscream held up his servo, displaying the hole still closing on his wrist.

“So he was.” Optimus patted Starscream’s leg. “You seem...inappropriately tired, my love.”

“For all my ability, that was the first battle I’ve experienced in a few quartexes,” Starscream muttered, nuzzling into the pillow. “I was immobile for a good portion of those quartexes too. Physical activity is also a chore. Why did I think flying into battle, guns blazing, was a good idea?” Starscream whined. 

Optimus patted his helm. “Perhaps you should train with my team. That will prepare you for your next battle.”

Starscream rolled over, meeting Optimus’s optics. “You think there will be a next one?”

“I know now that nothing will stop you. I might as well attempt to prepare you before you charge helm-first into a pitched fire-fight. Again.” 

Starscream laughed to himself. “I suppose that’s a good idea.”

Optimus reached out and squeezed Starscream’s servo. “You were very brave.”

“Thank you,” Starscream beamed.

“You were also very stupid.” Starscream’s smile dropped. “Do not look at me like that. You know your actions today were foolish.”

“I saved your life, didn’t I?” Starscream protested.

“You did,” Optimus conceded, “but you are never, ever, going to do that again.”

“I’m going to fight beside you eventually, Optimus, unless you end this war. Which, knowing our dear mutual friend, is unlikely to happen any time soon.” Starscream glared at him. “I’m a capable warrior. You know that. I’m going to help you, whether you like it or not.”

“I do not get to argue, do I?”

“Nope!” Starscream said cheerily. “I’m your partner. You’re my partner. We work together as one.”

“ _Together_ is the operative word, my love. We will fight _together_ , not as two lone renegades fighting for the same side. I want you by my side, not in the sky risking yourself for me.”

Starscream looked away. “Yes, that’s fair. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry. We are on the same team. Your actions today really showed me that.” Optimus raised Starscream’s servo to his lips and gave the shaking limb a sweet kiss. 

“What can I say? You’ve rubbed off on me.” Starscream’s gaze went to Optimus’s reproductive panel. Optimus braced himself for an inappropriate comment, but Starscream just sighed. “I was going to suggest that you literally rub off on me, but I am far, far too tired for that tonight.”

“Tomorrow. I will wake you up with it.” Optimus promised. Starscream’s brilliant smile returned. “But you should rest, my dear. It has been a long solar-cycle.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Starscream yawned, snuggling into the berth and hugging the pillow to his chassis. “Will you join me?”

“I am too wired to recharge. I think I will go check in on my team and join you later.”

Starscream nodded. “Sounds good. And then tomorrow we will interface, and train, and have a better solar-cycle than today.”

Optimus smiled softly. Starscream’s newfound hopefulness was very refreshing. “We will. My [belonging and beloved].”

Starscream settled down into the berth and pulling the covers over his body. “I love hearing you say that.”

“And I love saying it.” Optimus pulled the blanket over his lover’s body. “I am going to go visit with my team. Sleep well, I will see you soon.”

Starscream nodded. “[I love you],” he murmured, apparently too tired to speak common Cybertronian.

Optimus bent down and kissed his helm. “[I love you] too,” he said, though he was unsure if Starscream heard it before drifting off to sleep.

#

Arcee greeted Optimus as he walked into the “living room”/command centre with a quick wave. The kids had long since gone home for the night, and Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee were entertaining themselves with a game of cards. Some music, what the humans called techno, was playing over the TV. It was the closest they had to the music they’d known at home, and Bumblebee was tapping his foot along to it. The two mechs immediately started to rise to their pedes when they noticed Optimus walk in. He caught them before they stood up, motioning Bulkhead and Bee back down. He wasn’t their commanding officer at that moment, nor was he Optimus Prime, matrix bearer. He was just Optimus, a very tired mech who wanted to take a rest with his comrades. “At ease, my friends.”

“Want to join us, boss-bot? I can deal you in.” Arcee held up their deck.

“I would very much enjoy that.” Optimus pulled up a crate to sit on. “What are we playing?”

“It’s something we cobbled together. It’s a bit of shandix with a bit of poker thrown in.” Bulkhead grabbed the deck from Arcee and started to shuffle. Optimus gave him a questioning look. When did they learn a human card game? How busy had he been? Bulkhead seemed to understand his naked curiosity. “Miko taught us poker. It works surprisingly well with shandix.”

That didn’t surprise Optimus whatsoever, but he still had to ask. “And how does Miko know what poker is? I was under the impression that human children were not allowed in gambling facilities.”

“It’s Miko. I think her parents taught her.”

Optimus chuckled to himself. “I hope we have the opportunity to meet the people who brought our dear friend into the world.”

“Heh, yeah. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything to bet but nuts and bolts. It’s not really gambling, but it still should be fun.”

Optimus looked down at the table. It was covered in cards, nuts, bolts, and half-empty cubes. “That is good. You know that gambling is against the Autobot Codes of Conduct.”

“You’re fragging a d-con, I think you can look past this.” Bulkhead blurted. He covered his intake as soon as he realized what he’d said. “Oh, slag. Sweet Primus. I’m so, so sorry...”

Optimus threw his helm back and laughed. The team looked at him in shock. He shook the table with his laughter, knocking some of their “currency” to the floor. “Ah,” he chuckled, wiping a little tear from his optic. “I cannot remember when I last laughed like that. Good one, Bulkhead.”

“Thank you?” Bulkhead said, looking to Arcee. She just shrugged and tried to re-organize their winnings. Bulkhead put his helm down and went back to shuffling the cards.

“Do not let Starscream hear you say that. He has started to take great offence to being called a Decepticon.” Optimus nodded his thanks at Bumblebee for passing him a couple of nuts and a few bolts.

“Has he now?” Arcee said, taking the cards from Bulkhead.

“It was my turn to deal!” Bulkhead protested.

“Yeah, and you’re so dry you gave me six cards, yourself two, and Bee 8. You’re running on fumes. Finish your cube and let me take over.” Arcee shoved one of the cubes into Bulkhead’s servos. “Five cards each?”

Bulkhead nodded. “Five cards each.” He downed the whole cube in one go. “Thanks, Arcee.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bee beeped. “Yes, old friend?” Bumblebee chirped, making the shape of a spark with his digits. “Oh, Starscream?” Bee nodded. “Oh, yes. He does not want to be called a Decepticon. He does not want to be an Autobot either, but every time someone calls him a “d-con” or the like I get to hear about it for groons afterwards.”

“Hmm. I never imagined that from him.” Arcee looked at her cards. “He was the second command of the whole kit and caboodle.”

“Me neither.” Bulkhead shook his helm. “I remember how valiantly he used to fight. He used to be a royal pain in the aft. Vicious and under-handed, but Primus, he was one great warrior. You don’t fight like that for a cause you don’t believe in.”

“He did, at that time.” Optimus put one of his cards on the table.

“Really makes you think.” Arcee rubbed her face-plate in contemplation. “What things you’d have to endure to make you give that up.”

The group was quiet for a second. “I’m surprised that Star didn’t follow you in here. I’m not used to seeing you without him,” Bulkhead said, putting his own card down. Optimus was grateful for the change of subject. “Is he alright? Where’s he at?”

“He’s fine, just resting. He was very tired after Ratchet was done with him. He is recharging in our quarters.”

“I thought doc-bot was going to blow a gasket when we got back.” Bulkhead snickered. “I’ve never seen a wrench fly through the air that fast.”

“I have. At my helm. Several times.” Optimus shuddered at the memories.

“Seriously?” Arcee raised a brow-ridge. Bee tried to cover his snickering with a servo.

“Yes. Do you think Ratchet cares about rank? He would throw a wrench at Primus should they ever meet.”

“That, I’d love to see.” Bulkhead snickered. “He’ll just have to settle for throwing it at seekers and Primes.”

The team laughed again. Arcee grabbed a card off the pile. “Starscream surprised me today. He not only dealt with the flying wrench of doom, but he saved our sorry afts.”

“Yes. I was shocked as well. I was concerned that he would be injured again, or re-open an old wound, but...he came through for our team. That surprised me. I never doubt his loyalty to me, but I know my absence would not have changed his actions. I know he would have risked the same for any of you.”

“You know what’s the most surprising? I actually believe you.” Arcee scoffed, both at her poor cards and at the situation.

“Same.” Bulkhead agreed. “I never saw that coming. I wish I’d gone in on the bet with Jackie and Whirl. I could have made some decent credits.”

“Bet?” Optimus asked.

Bee started to snicker. It seemed that, despite not being a Wrecker, Bee was clearly in on their little scheme. For all his goodness and loyalty, the little scout could be downright devious. Bulkhead elbowed him, then looked sheepishly back at Optimus. “Yeah. We, erm, had a few of those.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Optimus narrowed his optics. “I believe Ultra Magnus and I had to talk to Whirl and Rodimus about speculating about their colleagues' private interfacing habits. Twice. It did not sink in the first time, apparently.” At that, Bumblebee had the decency to look embarrassed. “Is something funny, scout?”

Bumblebee stiffened. Then, it was Arcee’s turn to hold back laughter. “He helped Impactor win that bet by spying on Jackie.”

“You did not,” Optimus said, appropriately scandalized. Bumblebee looked at the floor. “Did you at least split the winnings?”

Bee nodded. “Well, good then.” He cleared his throat and turned back to Bulkhead. “So, this bet. That you would have won. What was it?”

“Much more innocent, don’tcha worry. Didn’t want to sit through another millennia-long lecture.” Bulkhead laughed a little. “We had a running bet on which Decepticons would defect before the end of the war, right after Drift joined up. I was pretty sure that Breakdown would have...” Bulkhead looked sad for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. Point is, I didn’t put money down on it. Roddy thought Knock-Out would defect, Jackie was positive that Grimlock would...and Whirl...Primus damn it, Whirl bet Screamer.”

Bee let out a long beep. They’d come to recognize that particular sound as disbelief.

“I’m with Bee,” Arcee said. “Really? I guess Whirl was always into the long shot.”

“That’s not why.” Bulkhead looked embarrassed again. “I mean, yeah, partly, but when he told us why...he said that, if the...other rumours were true, that there was no way he’d put up with Megatron forever. That eventually, he’d either leave or die.” Bulkhead wouldn't meet Opitmus’s gaze. “Whirl could be pretty smart, sometimes. I was sure he was wrong until he explained it to us like that.”

Optimus felt a little guilty for the change in mood. He patted Bulkhead’s knee joint. “You know what this means, my friend?”

“What?”

“The Wreckers all owe Whirl a great deal of money.”

The team shared another laugh.

Optimus smiled to himself, reviewing his cards. “I confess...I must ask you all a question.” The team watched him carefully. “I did not give you a choice as to Starscream moving in. You all likely understand why that could not be left to a vote, but I am curious...how have you felt about it?”

The team was silent for a moment. Bulkhead was the first to speak. “I mean, it’s different, yeah, but it’s not bad. It’s just...different.”

“I think the big problem with the way things were before the war was that things stayed the same for so long,” Arcee said. “If you were forged one way, you stayed that way forever.”

“Yes, I recall.” That was half of what started the fighting in the first place. How this related to their current situation remained to be seen. 

“So in a way, change is good. Always evolving, always transforming. It’s the Cybertronian way. That’s what I’ve been telling myself to get used to the former SOC of the Decepticons sitting across from me in the mess hall. But it’s been an adjustment.” Arcee sighed. “I’m trying, boss-bot. I’m really trying to trust him. I know you do, and that you’re in love, so I’m doing my best. The ritual helped, and he hasn’t screwed us over.”

“So far,” Bulkhead added.

“So far,” Arcee agreed. Optimus’s servos clenched. “But I don’t feel like that’s going to change. And...” Arcee groaned. “I like him. I really do. Against my better judgment.”

“Same.” Bulkhead nodded. Bee booped his agreement. “He’s an obnoxious little fragger, and I can never tell if he’s serious or not, but I do like him. He’s good to talk to. You never know what you’re going to get from him. I mean, that’s kind of his thing, but...I would have begged him for a big reader, but that book he told us about? It’s good.”

“Agreed.” Optimus grinned. “I too have been reading the _Tale of Starbreaker_.”

“Did you get to that part with the race?” Bulkhead asked excitedly. 

“Not yet. The leader of the Velocity tribe just challenged him. Is that the next chapter?”

“Yeah! The next two, actually. It’s so detailed. Just what you’d expect from a flyer.” Bulkhead frowned. “I’m almost done. I’m a little sad about it. Maybe Screamer has some other books he can recommend.”

“Thank you, my friends. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Optimus said with a small smile. “I admit that my partner is a bit of an acquired taste, but I am so pleased that you are starting to see what I see.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever see what you see,” Arcee laughed, “because, handsome as he is, I don’t think I could deal with that voice.”

“I said acquired taste, not acquired sound.” Optimus laughed, his spark light and joy-filled, even as Bumblebee and Bulkhead decimated him at cards.

**END OF PART TWO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back!
> 
> A little bit of news: I'm going to be changing my update day to Mondays going forward, for all my works, including this one. I just read somewhere that works published on Monday see better traction, and when you write rare pairs and less popular fandoms...well, you just want eyes on your work, right? SO! What that means for this fic is that the next chapter is coming in only two days, and then full steam ahead after that! I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but as you can see, it's really, really long and required a lot of work to perfect. If you've been here a while, you know I try to give you wonderful folkx out there the best. Because....
> 
> I love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for sticking with the fic. The novel-length StarOp fic. Sweet Christ. Oh well, you folkx are worth it. 
> 
> Also! I've started planning another StarOp fic for when this one is done, because why the hell not. It's going to be shorter, but it's also going to be a lot of fun. Stay tuned! 
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	21. Chapter Fourteen: Solace in the Strangest Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smokescreen joins Team Prime and tells the team what has been happening on the Cybertron they left behind. Surprising everyone, he gets along well with their other "new recruit".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: None, for once. I know. I'm surprised too. 
> 
> Chapter title taken from "Alive" by Sia (https://youtu.be/-xJrcWtM6jQ)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Solace in the Strangest Place

**BEGINNING OF PART THREE**

Optimus finished his training earlier than he expected to. Perhaps that was because he had no one to spar with. While he preferred to focus his processor and work off frustration with physical activity, his teammates viewed training as a task to be completed, as a means to an end. They preferred to relax with entertainment, or food, or companionship. He’d noticed an uptick in this behaviour after he’d specifically set out time for such activities in his training schedule. He wondered if he should, perhaps, cut back on self-care. The cogs of the machines of Megatron’s evil plans were still turning. They had to be ready.

Still, he couldn't help but look at his team with fondness as he entered their “command centre”. Bumblebee and Starscream were playing a video game, Miko and Jack both cheering and jeering them on. By the sounds of the simian noises coming from the laptop, Raf was scrubbing the internet of their presence and replacing it with his tap-dancing monkey. Arcee was scrolling through something on a datapad. Optimus looked around. He couldn’t spot Bulkhead.

Arcee saluted as he walked in, going back to her pad as soon as her servo lowered. “Good morning, sir.”

“At ease. It seems like everyone’s having a pleasant day so far.”

“Not Screamer. He’s losing.” Arcee pointed a thumb over her shoulder. Starscream let out an irritated growl at the nickname, though Optimus knew for a fact he hated it much less than he let on. Arcee smirked.

Optimus looked over to the TV area. Starscream’s denta were gritted, his digits rigid with tension as he focused on the screen, optics glancing over to Bumblebee with frustration. Bumblebee appeared nonplussed by his opponent and played the video game without changing his expression. It seemed like the scout was taking some sort of sick joy in watching Starscream get angrier and angrier as he did worse and worse at their game. Optimus hid a laugh behind his servo. “Is Bulkhead still in the infirmary?”

“I insisted,” Ratchet answered, walking into the room, “that he take a nap. He’s not going to get better if he’s up playing with the kids.” Ratchet scanned Starscream and shoved a cube of medicine-laced energon into the seeker’s free servo. Starscream drank it without looking, still focused on the screen. “I don’t think he should be allowed on missions for a while.”

“Not until you deem him recovered. While we will be short one soldier, we cannot risk injuring him further.”

“True enough.” Ratchet looked at the screen. “Your special attack is charged.”

“I know,” Starscream hissed, “but I have to get it off at the right time.”

Ratchet snorted and turned back to Optimus. His expression darkened immediately. “We only have the barest hint of what they’re planning out there. We need to be prepared. We need to make sure the soldiers who aren’t injured are ready for anything.”

Optimus was about to agree when Raf called out “Hey, guys?” and waved them over to the computer. Optimus and Ratchet shared a look before walking over to their diminutive friend. “I found something.” With a button, he brought the article he was reading up on the screen. A mysterious spacecraft, mistaken for a meteor by the humans, had entered the atmosphere and presumably crashed. Optimus recognized the design. That was an escape pod, no doubt about it. However, the image wasn’t clear enough to make out any other details.

“This warrants investigation.” Optimus leaned forward, trying to get a better view of the pod. He input the codes to scan for Cybertronian craft signatures.

“Could be a trap, and we’re down one bot.” Arcee crossed her arms, looking in the direction of the med bay. “We could reach out to Wheeljack.”

“Bulkhead may not be combat-ready, but we’re not contacting Wheeljack. After that stunt he pulled with Miko, he can stay rogue.” Ratchet’s sense of duty towards the humans was certainly admirable, but Optimus didn’t like the idea of permanently casting out one of their own. Wheeljack had shown no interest in being part of the team, but still. If Wheeljack could earn back that trust, he would be welcome. _After all,_ he thought, looking over at Starscream, _we are very forgiving_.

He focused back on the task at hand. “An Autobot may be in distress. We need a medic, not a soldier. Ratchet, you are coming with us. Bring your medkit.”

Ratchet did not look happy, but Optimus also knew he wouldn't disagree. Wordlessly, Ratchet walked over to the cupboard he kept his kit in and started preparing it for anything they could encounter.

“I could go with you,” Starscream offered, setting his controller down, “since you’re down a bot.”

“You’re not combat-ready either.”

“I beg to differ. I was in combat quite recently. You were there, if I recall correctly, strapping a gigantic gun to my back. Are you forgetting things in your old age?” Starscream’s tone was mirthful, but his optics were angry.

“That was a one-time deal in an emergency. This isn’t an emergency, and you’re not going.”

“Optimus!” Starscream whined, giving Optimus his best ‘hungry turbo-fox’ eyes. “Please talk some sense into Ratchet. Tell him I can go!”

Optimus shook his helm. “You are not going, my love. I am sorry.” Starscream let out an indignant squawk, not unlike a pigeonoid being stepped on by a careless commuter. It was endearing in all the worst ways. “The Decepticon army, barring Knock-Out, still do not know that you are alive. I do not want to risk you being spotted if the Decepticons have decided to engage our new arrival.”

Starscream crossed his arms and frowned. “I could have been spotted with the Insecticons.”

“You left none standing. There was no one to report back to Megatron that you were seen.” Optimus gave Starscream a sympathetic look. “I know you wish to help. But you can help best by staying here and keeping an eye on Bulkhead."

Starscream let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he ground out, “but don’t think I like it.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like it, you whiny glitch.” Ratchet’s patience was apparently stretched a little thin after the Wheeljack incident, Optimus noted, watching him openly seethe at Starscream. Ratchet pointed at the couch. “Stay here, stay put, don’t break anything. You can help Raf work the bridge controls if you really need something to do.”

“But...!”

“Do not worry, my spark. This will be a simple mission.” Optimus tried to give Starscream a smile. And it would be, too. Check out the pod, see who was in it, either eliminate or welcome them and return to base. Bumblebee patted Starscream on the shoulder and came to join Arcee and Ratchet, primed for their transport. Starscream groaned and walked over to the console, priming the ground-bridge for transport.

“It could just as easily be a Decepticon.” Starscream pointed to the object on the screen. “We all use the same basic design for our escape pods. Cybertron operates on the principle of if it’s not broken don’t fix it, or whatever the human expression is. Without more information...”

“That is even more reason for you to stay behind,” Optimus stated. Starscream looked away from him and glared at the floor, typing codes into the computer. That was ‘Starscream’ for ‘I know you’re right, and I refuse to admit it’. “If it is indeed a Decepticon, we will handle it.”

Starscream looked up at him again, a flirtatious smile on his face-plate. Optimus tempered his sense of decency for what was going to come from his lover’s intake. That smile never meant anything good—in front of his team, at least. “I have the utmost faith in your ability to handle Decepticons. I still have the dents from last night.”

Ratchet started digging through his med-kit, likely for a wrench to throw. Starscream, apparently sensing this, started the bridge. Optimus winked at his lover as the ground-bridge whirred to life. The sooner they left, the better. “See you soon, Star.” The seeker gave him a little wave as he left, watching them walk through the bridge with an amused expression.

The forest was silent as they stepped through the bridge. The group still approached the pod hesitantly, guns ready and steps quiet. The pod was noticeably empty, the door kicked open to reveal nothing inside it, no signatures for their instruments to read. The Decepticon insignia was clear, but there was no sign that the pod’s occupant was anywhere nearby.

“This is underwhelming,” Arcee said with a roll of her optics.

Then the shooting began.

Shots started raining down on them from all directions, a hail of red lasers and animalistic shrieks filling the air. That sound was only one thing. Insecticons. The new model of Insecticons, the ones with guns. Wonderful. Perhaps this mission would not be so simple after all.

The creatures started swarming them, the Autobots returning fire with extreme prejudice. Almost too extreme, but he supposed he couldn’t blame them after their last encounters with the creatures. There weren’t many, not by his count, nor by the evidence his vision presented him with. What wasn’t clear was whether or not the Insecticons were drawn there by the pod as well, or if they were there as part of an ambush. He hoped this would be over quickly, as he’d told his lovely partner.

However, Optimus’s sensors were picking up a distinctly Autobot presence. A white and blue mech burst out of the forest, firing on the Insecticons. At first, Optimus thought it was Wheeljack, but the mech seemed much younger and was a more accurate shot. Optimus recognized Ultra Magnus’s fighting techniques immediately as their apparent ally dove, wove, and kicked around the advancing Decepticons. At the very least, Optimus could clearly see his Autobot insignia, which gave him a certain sense of ease. _Intriguing_ , Optimus noted, watching this mystery mech work. As soon as the fight died down, he would have to question their unexpected ally.

#

The fight ended as quickly as it began. It took only shooting a few of the Insecticons to force a retreat, and two of the deaths attributable to the new arrival. Whatever the swarm was looking for, they hadn’t found it. Optimus was not sure if that was a good omen or a bad sign, but he had other things to worry about. As the Insecticons retreated, Optimus turned to their new “friend”. He was, as Optimus guessed, quite young. His bright blue optics still had the unfiltered shine of youth, and his derma was undented and unscarred. No one, even the younger members of his crew, had managed to keep their paint looking that pristine. The mech’s presence just exuded youthful energy too, from the wide-eyed look of wonder on his face-plate to his springy joints. The young mech was bouncing from foot to foot, smiling widely at all of them, though his optics always seemed to find their way back to Optimus. “Thank you, fellow Autobot. Your valour is to be commended.”

Their apparent ally stood before the Autobot crew, jittery from the heat of battle. When he finally spoke, Optimus had to suppress a grimace. “I don’t believe it. You’re Optimus Prime!” He turned to the team. “He’s Optimus Prime!” He was “fangirling” (as the humans called it) over Optimus, and it was a little bit odd. 

“We know.” Arcee deadpanned.

Optimus kept his face-plate blank. It had been a long time since he’d met one of these types. The ones who’d heard his legend since they were forged, who’d grown up knowing nothing but war, nothing but tales of Autobot courage and Decepticon evil. It was...jarring, to say the least. It always gave him pause for thought, that the war had lasted so long that half his army didn’t remember what their home once was. Still, he was a leader, and he had a job to do. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Smokescreen, sir!” Smokescreen snapped to attention and saluted.

Optimus stepped forward, slightly uncomfortable at the look of naked admiration in the other mech’s optics. He wasn’t quite used to it, even after all this time. He held out his servo. “Welcome to Earth, Smokescreen.” His discomfort rose as his servo was gripped in an overly tight hold by the younger mech, Smokescreen smiling up at him, practically vibrating with excitement.

“It’s an honour to be here. Especially with you!”

Ratchet looked at the whole exchange with a vaguely irritated expression. “So what now?” he asked. “It’s not like we can just bring him back to base.”

Arcee nodded her agreement. “Wouldn’t be the first time an ally turned out to be a plant.”

Bumblebee booped. Ratchet sighed. He was getting better and better at understanding Bumblebee, which Optimus was grateful for. “That’s fair, Bumblebee. I’m not sure about that either. We do have an...unconventional guest at the moment.”

Optimus noticed the icon on Smokescreen’s shoulder. The elite guard. The best of the best of the Autobot cause. No wonder he’d recognized Smokescreen’s fighting style. He’d trained half of them himself, including Ultra Magnus, and now they, in turn, were training new bots. The selection process was rigorous, and the symbol was widely protected. “You were trained by the elite guard.”

“Yes sir. Wasn’t much more than a boot-camp by the time I got there. Didn’t even get a proper graduation ceremony.” Smokescreen sounded a little put-out by this fact. _Primus,_ Optimus thought, _just how young is he? What is going_ _on_ _back on Cybertron?_

“There was a war going on.” Arcee pointed out. No wonder she was starting to get along so well with Starscream. He’d never noticed just how sarcastic they both were until he had to deal with both of them on the same day.

“Hey, all I ever wanted to be was a soldier and serve the Autobot cause. But instead of fighting on the front lines, kicking con tailpipe--” Smokescreen made a punching motion with his hands. Ratchet gave Optimus a very pointed look. Optimus ignored him. Starscream could handle whatever Smokescreen could dish out...right? “--I was guarding the hall of records at Iacon.”

“The hall of records? Don’t you find this a little suspicious?” Ratchet asked.

“You served under Alpha Trion, the master archivist,” Optimus stated.

Smokescreen nodded. “Wasn’t thrilled at first, but the Big A turned out to be a great teacher. And a true friend.”

“That doesn’t prove anyth--”

“He was the one who petitioned Halogen and the high council to make you a Prime.”

Optimus’s processor whirred. No one else knew that. The high council was all dead now, and Alpha Trion would not such share information if he did not have a secure bond of trust built. Optimus remembered how hard he’d had to work to get Alpha Trion to trust him when he was but a clerk. He activated his comm. First, he tried hailing Starscream, but he heard the sounds of video games clearly over the line, as well as Bulkhead’s voice. He decided not to bother them while they were bonding. “Rafael, activate the ground bridge.”

“That’s it? That’s all it takes?” Arcee sputtered.

“If my mentor shared that information, it is because he considered Smokescreen a trusted ally.” The ground bridge activated behind them. “We are going back to base.”

Smokescreen did a quick fist-pump, then straightened up and tried to look a little more professional. Optimus waited for the team to go ahead of him, Ratchet stopping at this side before he went through. “I hope he gets along with our guest.”

Optimus grimaced. “For his sake, I certainly hope so.”

#

Smokescreen was barely out of the ground bridge before Miko was running around his feet and asking him a bunch of questions. “Hi! What’s your name? My name’s Miko! Where are you from? Why are you on Earth? Do you like video games?” He seemed to take it in stride, looking around the room, taking care not to step on her. Miko ran up to the “viewing platform” and started asking questions right to his face-plate. “What’s your favourite colour?”

He barely took notice of the other children, more focused on taking in his surroundings. Optimus watched him carefully. He didn’t distrust him the same way as the others, but he still wanted to ere on the side of caution. Especially given Smokescreen’s penchant for ‘kicking con tailpipe’. He wasn’t sure if he was more fearful for Smokescreen or Starscream. Starscream wasn’t back to 100% yet, but he was still a force to be reckoned with. It took groons to buff out the scratches Starscream left in his back, and those weren’t from fighting. He knew for a fact that the seeker would scratch an optic out if he was threatened.

Which, while potentially entertaining, would not make for good future relations.

“So this is Earth.” Smokescreen said, looking down at Miko, Jack and Raf on their little platform. “And these are the lifeforms we’re protecting. Are all of them...like this?”

“No,” Ratchet answered, “but I agree with her. I too wonder how you came to be on Earth.”

“And how you got here in a Decepticon escape pod.” Arcee walked up to Smokescreen and stared him down. Despite their height difference, the mech was clearly intimidated. Optimus grinned. He’d taught her well.

“Still got trust issues, huh?”

“It’s been a long few Quartexes.”

Smokescreen shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Iacon has fallen. The Decepticons launched an offensive that...” Smokescreen stopped. His optics widened and his servos transformed instantly into pistols. Optimus didn’t even have to follow his line of sight to know why Smokescreen had gone quiet. The elite guardsman was focused on the entrance to the command centre, his weapons whirring as Starscream nonchalantly walked in.

Optimus slowly started to move between Smokescreen and Starscream. So far the seeker only had optics for him, moving towards him with his arms open. “I’m so happy you’re back, my darling. Bulkhead cheats at video games. It’s rather appalling, and certainly against the Autobot Code.”

“I am not going to court-martial my soldiers because they beat you at Soul Calibre.”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

“Everybody get down!” Smokescreen shouted, trying to wave Arcee, Ratchet and Bumblebee behind him. Bumblebee snickered to himself. Ratchet put his face-plate in his hands, muttering something about needing a vacation. Arcee openly laughed, making no effort to hide her amusement. All of them stayed put. “Starscream has infiltrated the base! The Decepticons have breached the defences!”

Starscream pivoted, turning to take in their newest team member. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said evenly. “Though you already seem to know who I am. Perhaps you can tell me your name, put us on an even playing field?”

“What are you...you can’t trick me, Starscream. What are you doing here? What are the Decepticons planning?” Smokescreen started to circle the seeker, his guns still pointed at his target. Starscream’s optics followed him, his brow-ridge quirked in annoyance and curiosity. He wasn’t afraid at all. Optimus supposed that, after getting almost murdered by Megatron, Smokescreen wasn’t the least bit intimidating.

“First, I live here. Second, note my chassis.” He gestured at his frame with his usual flourish. “No insignia. I am no longer a Decepticon.”

“It’s gotta be a trick.” Smokescreen shook his helm. “You’re trying to manipulate me.” He raised his gun to Starscream’s helm. Starscream rolled his optics and put his hands up, glaring down the barrel of the gun pointed at his helm. “Talk, con. Or I shoot.”

“Try it, show-boat. I’ve dealt with worse than you. After living with Megatron for millennia, you’re about as scary as a turbo-fox.”

Smokescreen’s jaw tightened. Optimus knew this was only going to go downhill. Starscream never knew when to shut up. “Stand down, Smokescreen,” Optimus ordered.

Smokescreen slowly lowered his weapons. “What’s going on Optimus Prime, sir?”

“You’d better sit down,” Arcee smirked. “This is going to be a shock.”

Smokescreen moved cautiously towards them, looking between his idol and his enemy. Optimus wrapped an arm around Star’s waist, pulling him in. “Starscream has left the Decepticons. While he has not officially joined the Autobots, he has proven to be an invaluable help against his former faction. We are also...” he looked down at Starscream’s face-plate, which was relaxed and calm despite risking being blown off a few seconds before. He was looking up at Optimus with a small smile, warmth and affection written on his face-plate. His spark sung with joy. He forced himself to look back at his new recruit. “Starscream and I are in love. That is why he is at the base.”

Smokescreen’s optics widened. “How...”

“Oh, I like this one.” Starscream purred. “He’s so very articulate.”

“I can understand if this is a problem for you, Smokescreen, but I have the same trust in my lover that I do in my entire team, and in you. Starscream is not a threat.” Starscream looked like he was about to make a dirty comment. Optimus loved Starscream, but he did not love that defence mechanism. He gave the seeker a warning pinch. Starscream barely reacted, but he did keep his intake shut, for possibly the first time in their acquaintance.

Smokescreen nodded. “Okay. I can...I don’t like this, but if you say that he’s okay, I can try.” The younger mech still looked at him with admiration, but it was tainted now. Optimus felt a little bad, but this was his choice. The spark wants what the spark wants, as Alpha Trion would say.

“Did I hear him right, that Iacon really fell?” Starscream asked.

Smokescreen snapped back into soldier mode. “Yes. It did. The Decepticons finally breached our defences...”

Starscream listened intently to Smokescreen’s tale of the fall of Iacon. He was honestly surprised it had taken this long, but at this point in the conflict, it was one of the worst things that could possibly happen. If they breached the hall of records...more specifically if Shockwave breached the hall of records...

They wouldn’t kill the master archivist, would they? No, they couldn’t. Not if the rumour about the old coot being one of the Thirteen was true. Still, the idea of his former factions having access to the old bot’s files made him deeply uncomfortable.

Not to mention that Shockwave essentially stole his grand plan for the siege of Iacon, which he’d put groons of work into. Not that he was bitter. At all.

Optimus nudged his shoulder. “What are you thinking, dear one?”

“Shockwave has access to the hall of records. He’s the worst possible Decepticon to have access to that information. This isn’t good.”

“Why?” Smokescreen asked. “Would he destroy it? Would...would he hurt Big A?”

“No, I don’t think he would. It would be illogical, and he’ll need Alpha Trion to access some of it. It’s a problem because he’s one of the only Decepticons smart enough to use the records to his advantage.” Starscream looked Smokescreen right in the optics. “And that is so, so much worse.”

“Good thing I’m here, then. I have some good news. Alpha Trion sent the relics to Earth for Optimus to use. He didn’t tell anyone because, well, he didn’t want anyone else to use them. But he doesn’t know where they landed, so he can’t tell Shockwave, and the ‘cons don’t have space-bridge capability. Right?”

“They wouldn’t still be on Earth if they did.” Starscream crossed his arms. “Shockwave might not be able to get anything useful from the relics. Might.” He sighed. “But that’s not the only thing he’d be after. This complicates things.”

“How? How does it complicate things?” Smokescreen asked.

Starscream glanced at Optimus for permission to fill Smokescreen in. Optimus nodded. “Megatron is obsessed with Unicron and has also begun using humans for his plans. There’s dark energon seeded into planet Earth’s core, and all humans have a little bit in them. Most of his recent exploits have involved humans, whether using them for labour or purposefully choosing energon sites with high human population density. I’ve been helping with intel as much as I can, but he didn’t trust me enough to reveal his entire plan. Considering current events, that was a very smart decision.”

“So...you don’t know what’s going on with the Decepticons?” Smokescreen asked.

Starscream restrained a growl. He knew it was unlikely the young bot didn’t mean to question his usefulness, but he could feel a defensive reaction building. He remembered what his therapy module said. _Defence mechanisms have their uses, but being defensive shuts one off from learning and growing_. He calmed himself down before he started to speak again. “I do not. But, I know enough about Megatron and his usual modus operandi to be able to guess what he’s planning. I’m also well acquainted with the Decepticon war machine. I know their tactics. I know their philosophy. I know what they fight for. I think I know what’s going on better than anyone else.”

“Primus, settle down. I just wanted to know if you knew their exact plan.” Smokescreen put up his servos in mock surrender.

“Well, I don’t. I doubt anyone outside of Megatron does.”

“But we do know that, should he learn more about dark energon and Unicron, he would be infinitely more dangerous,” Optimus added.

“Is Megatron smart enough to decipher big A’s notes?”

“For our sake,” Starscream said, looking into the distances as images of his former tormentor danced through his processor, “I hope not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun! Cliffhanger time!
> 
> I'm so excited to finally have Smokescreen! Yay! I didn't like him at first on the show but he really grew on me. I'm really excited about the dynamic he's going to bring to the team. I figured, having only heard of Starscream via rumours and battle footage without having fought him, he'd be a bit more trusting of his...roommmate, since Starscream had not personally wronged him like he'd done Arcee. So...I'm looking forward to writing more of him. He may or may not "interact" with Knock-Out...stay tuned. 
> 
> I've been playing a lot of Soul Caliber lately. I like fighting games in general, but I'm enjoying Soul Caliber. My partner and I made a character who's basically DIO from JoJo's, because one of the special attacks reminded us of "ZA WARUDO" (The World) and it's such a pain to try to time the special attacks juuuuust right...I just needed to share my pain. 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	22. Chapter Fifteen: I Know a Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smokescreen joins the team for his first battle, and Optimus and Starscream have their first official date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: None, unless sappy one-liners bother you 
> 
> Chapter title taken from "I Know a Place" by Conan Gray (https://youtu.be/DIqngAXHzTI), but more so this delightful cover by Cave Town (https://youtu.be/StU87rPC_eU)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

I Know a Place

A laser bullet flew past Optimus Prime’s helm, the sound a low hum in his audials, loud and clear over the usual noise of battle. He dodged, only to come face to face with a glowing purple optic. The vehicon snarled (snarled? When had they ever done that? They were usually silent!) and took a swipe at Optimus with long, clawed digits (They definitely didn’t have those before!). Optimus quickly raised an elbow and nailed the unfortunate mech in the face-plate, leaving a big dent in the shining silver. Another took its place, charging at Optimus with the same glowing purple optics. Optimus shot it clean through the CPU, and its twitching corpse fell to the ground with a muffled thud. He looked across the battlefield. He was never, ever going to say that a mission would be “quick” or “simple” again. While this was not nearly as bad as the “canyon incident”, he still had not anticipated the amount of resistance the Autobots had encountered. This had seemed like an easy mission when they’d discussed it at the base, but with this level of violence, anything could happen.

Still, the team was not suffering for it. Bumblebee was easily taking on three opponents at once with a container of diluted energon under one arm. Smokescreen was cheering and whooping, speeding around the battlefield and mowing cons down. It was a testament to the elite guard training regiment that the young mech’s wild shooting was aimed well enough to take out their enemies and avoid his teammates. His gusto would normally be a little problematic, but he was grateful for it now. The vehicons were more vicious than usual. Arcee...he could not see Arcee. Where was...

“Behind you!” Arcee yelled, Optimus turning immediately. The vehicon that had been approaching him with its gun out and murder in its optics was swiftly taken out. Arcee landed a leaping kick and knocked it to the ground. She shot it point-blank as it tried to stand and whirled around. “Glad this is in an open space. I don’t know how we’d be doing in a closed environment!”

“And to that we say?” A voice crackled over the comm.

Arcee rolled her optics, standing on the fallen Decepticon and using the increased height to shoot at more of the advancing foes. “Fine, Starscream, using the energon we beat them to as bait to draw them out from their goal into open space was a good idea. Happy?”

“Very,” Starscream replied. Optimus could hear the smirk in his lover’s voice. “Fill me in. What’s happening?”

“The Vehicons are attacking. They’re not in formation, but damn...Ugh, this is harder than it usually is. I think I’m going to have a scratch on my paint. What a fragging pain.” Arcee moaned, glaring at her side where a fresh wound leaked energon.

“Wait...attacking, and scratching you?”

“Yeah, how else would I have gotten this wound?” Arcee snapped.

“I can’t see you. You do remember that, right?” Starscream retorted.

“Starscream,” Optimus interrupted, not wanting the inevitable argument to derail the mission,“what are you thinking?”

“That’s not how they usually attack. We wouldn’t have given them decent guns if we wanted them to utilize CQC, just like we would have given the Insecticons guns if we didn’t want them to favour CQC. We would have made them much smaller, maybe thicker...Are their attacks co-ordinated?”

“No,” Smokescreen interjected, “they’re like rabid turbofoxes. They’re all aggression, no skill.”

“I see. Optimus, my spark?”

“Yes, my beautiful pidgeonoid?”

“Toss the energon in the air. When they all jump for it, it’ll be even easier to take them out. They’re not terribly good at jumping, so it should be easy to shoot them all.”

“Are you just that’s a good idea? What if they get it?” Smokescreen asked.

“Then their digestive tanks are full, and you kill them while they feast. Do it. Throw it as high as you can, and light them up. If you’re right, Smokey, then they’ll mindlessly go for the fuel, oblivious to everything around them, and give you an opening.”

“Don’t call me Smokey, and sure. We’ll do it. Who has the energon?”

Optimus looked across the field. Bumblebee still had it, but his grip was looking shaky at best. “Bee!” Optimus shouted. The scout turned, shooting a vehicon through the processor as he did. Optimus’s face shield kept his smile hidden, but he couldn't help but grin at the ease with which Bumblebee dispatched his enemies. He’d trained the young mech well. “Throw the energon up, and then start shooting!”

Bumblebee didn’t hesitate. He sped away from the throng of pursuers at his heels and hefted the energon cube high into the air. The cube was surprisingly aerodynamic, staying in the air for a surprising amount of time before beginning a descent downward. One of the vehicons assaulting Bumblebee noticed and charged for it, the others quickly following its lead, climbing over each other to get to their coveted prize. It was too easy. “Light them up!” Optimus shouted, open firing on their opponents.

Bumblebee and Arcee followed suit, vehicons falling from the sky like raindrops. Smokescreen let out a cheer and started firing mindlessly into the crowd, nearly hitting the rest of the team in the process. He was sure the young mech had been well trained, but he was very reckless. Maybe it was the result of being forced to guard Alpha Trion when he was so clearly built for combat. He likely hadn’t been in a real fight since leaving the academy. When the energon landed there were only four vehicons left, and they scattered into the woods as soon as they realized that they were now evenly matched, the energon forgotten.

“Yeah! Take that, cons!” Smokescreen shouted. “You better run!”

Optimus heard someone wince behind him. He turned to find Arcee holding a cut on her arm, her brilliant blue energon leaking out. Bumblebee was at her side instantly, beeping and chirping loudly, reaching out and trying to find somewhere he could touch. Arcee waved him off. “I’m fine, Bee. It’s a scratch.” Optimus’s spark sank. It looked deeper than that, but that was for Ratchet to judge.

“This is Starscream, just checking in,” the comm sounded. “Did everything...work? Is everyone alive? Don’t worry about answering, I’ll get Ratchet and...”

“We are fine, my spark,” Optimus reassured him. “Have Ratchet on standby for some minor injuries, but we are all fine.”

“That’s a relief. Did the plan...”

“Your plan worked, Star. Congratulations.” Arcee groaned.

“Did...did Arcee just refer to me with a term of endearment? She’s definitely taken a hit to the processor! Now I know you’re all seriously wounded. I’ll open up a ground-bridge, get you all in the infirmary right away!” The comm disengaged as they heard the tell-tale sounds of shuffling. Bumblebee chuckled to himself. Starscream was still learning the controls for everything.

The ground-bridge crackled to life and the team walked through, some limping.

#

Optimus’s olfactory sensors still burned with the scent of ozone and energon, and the charge of battle still sent electricity sparking through his veins even as he walked through the ground-bridge back to the base. Arcee and Bumblebee followed behind him, taking slow, unsteady steps. It seemed the charge of battle had left them when Arcee’s arm had been slashed by a rogue vehicon and they were just running on fumes. Smokescreen sauntered through the portal, a wide grin on his face, jumping from foot to foot like he was itching to keeping fighting. Ratchet was on Arcee immediately, looking her over and ignoring her attempts to wave him off. Bulkhead limped in, nodding at Optimus as he took his place with the team. Optimus hoped his personal wrecker would be well soon. These pitched battles needed someone with his controlled strength, to balance out his more...energetic shooters.

“Is it just me,” Arcee asked, wiping energon off her arm and shoulders, “or do the vehicons seem more...aggressive, lately?” Bumblebee let out a little miserable sound as he finally sat down, his joints creaking and metal straining.

“I have noticed a change in their fighting style, myself.” Optimus agreed. “They used to shoot at us from a distance and advance closer. In this recent battle, they immediately began close-quarters combat. It was...jarring.”

Bumblebee chirped. “Yes, I saw that eerie purple glow in their optics too,” she said by way of response. “Weren’t they red before, maybe orange?” Arcee wondered out loud. “What could have done that?”

Optimus recalled the first time he’d seen dark energon at work on living mechs. He’d seen it during the war when Megatron was pumping his living soldiers full of it. The mechs he flooded with the horrid poison were shadows of their former selves. He recalled facing Starscream in battle while his lover was high out of his CPU on the stuff. He fought like a mechanimal, but he wasn’t snarling in anyone’s face-plates. It reminded Optimus of something else, the more insidious uses of dark energon. He was still haunted by watching those corpses rise from their graves, their honourable death disrespected by Megatron’s lust for power. “I have seen this before when Megatron used dark energon to revive the dead. I did not think it could be used to this specific effect on the living.”

“I had fun, in case anyone’s wondering.” Smokescreen added.

“We weren’t,” Arcee snapped.

Starscream walked into the room and took in the sight of the team. “What’s with those expressions? I know the battle went off the rails, but your face-plates say it went further than that.”

“Not off the rails so much as surprisingly.” Optimus contemplated the events of the battle so he could best relay it to Starscream. _Soon,_ he thought, _Starscream can fight with us, and he can see our_ _battle_ _s for himself._ _I can only imagine what insights he’ll share when that happens_. “The vehicons were more aggressive than we had anticipated. Their optics glowed purple, as if--”

“They’d been given dark energon,” Starscream finished. “So he finally found a new source.”

“It appears so.”

“Okay, I’m new here, what is that? I thought there wasn’t any dark energon left after Megatron injected the core with it. I thought new dark energon was just the street name for some new circuit booster.” Smokescreen interjected. “What kind of slag makes someone more aggressive than a glitching turbofox and glows like a fragging moon?”

“The superstitious believe it’s the blood of Unicron.” Starscream rolled his optics a little bit, catching Optimus’s disapproving stare. Starscream was free to believe whatever he wanted, but Optimus would not allow his beliefs to be disrespected. Starscream continued. “At least, that’s what the legends say. What we do know is that it can reanimate the dead and increases fighting abilities while increasing aggression by a factor of at least fifty.”

“Slag. That’s so much worse than a drug.”

“I concur.” Optimus agreed. “Drugs and circuit boosters are one thing. This is something truly evil.”

“I’m guessing the Decepticons found more of it here since there isn’t any left at home?” Smokescreen asked, his brow furrowing.

“While looking for regular energon on his miserable dirtball, yes.” Starscream answered, his wings twitching and tensing. Optimus knew something must have happened when Megatron started taking dark energon again. Given the things Starscream screamed in his nightmares, part of him never wanted to find out. “When we found it...Megatron proceeded to use it on himself, punched a hole through solid stone, and reanimated a legion of Cybertronian dead.”

“Ah.” Smokescreen rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not good, is it?”

“No. He’ll do anything to win, up to and including experimenting on his own army. He was perfectly willing to get half the high command addicted during the war on Cybertron.” Starscream shook his helm. “If he’s willing to pump his own soldiers full of a very rare substance, he was to have the resources to do it. That’s the Decepticon way. And if he has the resources, this problem isn’t going away.”

“We are going to have to have a planning meeting,” Optimus said. “Later. Tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Arcee nodded, waggling her brow-ridge at Starscream, “you have your big date tonight.” Bulkhead elbowed the seeker, who growled at him, earning a laugh from the former wrecker.

“Quiet, wretch,” Starscream scoffed, glaring teasingly at Arcee. “you know you’re glad to be rid of me for a few groons.”

“Groons? I thought...”

“You’ve no idea of my true stamina.” Starscream’s expression shifted into a sneer. Arcee looked like she was ready to be sick. Optimus sighed. Always with the inappropriate jokes with his seeker.

“I’m glad for it, then, since I get a break from your obnoxious voice, and I’m sure Optimus appreciates a partner who can keep up with him.” Arcee crossed her arms and winked at Starscream.

“Trust me,” Starscream purred, “he does.”

Optimus wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“Why’s she waggling her brow-ridge at him? Why are we talking about stamina...oh. Oh!” Smokescreen made a face like he’d stumbled across a dead cyber-mouse in his energon. “You’re doing that...date thing, right?”

Optimus nodded. “Yes. Starscream and I will be away from the base for a few groons, as we are participating in the Vossian courtship rituals. I believe that common parlance would deem that a ‘date’.”

“That’s, uh. Great. Just...great. I hope you two have fun!” He laughed awkwardly, looking everywhere but Optimus or Starscream.

“Thank you, Smokescreen.” Optimus said, making sure he made optic contact with him. “I am sure it will be an...eventful evening.” Perhaps Starscream was rubbing off on him, because he felt a sick sense of delight at Smokescreen’s horrified expression, and had to stifle a laugh at Starscream making lewd gestures behind his back when he thought he couldn’t see them. All he needed was a quick trip to the wash-racks, and he’d be ready to go. A different kind of excitement coursed through him, separate from his post-battle haze. He was looking forward to this. It felt like the kind of thing that they would have done had they began their romance on pre-war Cybertron, and he couldn't wait to see how happy Starscream would be once they arrived.

The ground-bridge deposited Optimus and Starscream in a nondescript forest. The seeker looked around at the trees, wondering why in Xal’s name this was Optimus’s favourite place. He’d seen his fair share of this planet’s forests and most of them looked the same. Vegetation, insects, and human tourists getting underfoot. Minus the human tourists, this one didn’t look much different. Dark green trees covered the area as far as the optic could see. When the wind blew, the waving expanse resembled the planet’s ocean. He supposed that was...nice, in its own way. Aesthetically pleasing. “So we’re here. These trees are...nice. For trees.”

Optimus let out a deep rumbling laugh. “No, my spark. This is not the place, not quite. I thought we could walk there.”

Starscream looked down, noting the well-down dirt path weaving through the woods. “Why? Is it hard to reach by ground-bridge?”

“No. It is more romantic to walk.” Optimus held out his servo. Starscream took it with a roll of his optics and blushed. As cheesy as Optimus could be, he was definitely right. The metal of Optimus’s servo was warm against his claws. It was likely some sort of trick of the CPU, but the air seemed clearer, the colours more vivid, and the night more peaceful servo-in-servo with Optimus. Even if there was only the same tree as far as the optic could see. “The forest is lovely at night.”

“I suppose so. Still looks like a forest to me. Trees, trees, some more trees over there...” Starscream waved dismissively.

“Look closer. You will see more than you realize.” Optimus waved his servo, gesturing at the dark green expanse. Starscream looked closer, turning on some of his scanners. There were a lot more animals than he anticipated, first off, of all manner. Birds sleeping, foxes rustling through the underbrush, little insects scurrying about...and the root systems of the trees, stretching far underground in all directions. Perhaps he needed to stop thinking like a ~~Decepticon~~ cynic and start thinking like a scientist.

Earth was fascinating, he mused as Optimus dragged him along. Everything on the planet seemed to be alive in some way. It was all connected in a way so unlike Cybertron. Whereas their planet seemed to leech off the energon at the planet’s core, everything on Earth supported each other in some way. Things...ate each other here, but even death did not break that connection, that symbiosis. He could see decomposing animals and plants being broken down by fungi, their energy being reincorporated into the soil. “So,” Optimus asked, “what do you think?”

“Everything’s...alive.” Starscream looked around, scanning the skies above, finding so many flying creatures of the night among the stars. “I need to study this, collect samples, maybe catch a few specimens.” Optimus snickered beside him. “What?” he squawked.

“Once a scientist, always a scientist.”

“Quiet!” Starscream barked, prompting further laughter. The seeker huffed and crossed his arms. “You’re not so different, Prime. Don’t act like the clerk in you wasn’t excited when you arrived here and saw the humans’ famed world-wide-web.”

“I never acted like I was not,” Optimus countered. “I was quite excited to see the vast amount of information available to all citizens of this planet. It’s how we managed to learn human languages. Which I imagine you utilized too.”

Starscream batted at a tree branch near his face as they walked. “I’m not sure how I learned, to be honest. Knock-Out called me into his lab and Soundwave plugged something into my CPU. Downloaded all written and oral Earth language right in. Of course, knowing what I know now about the human’s internet, I’m not surprised at the sheer amount of viruses the Vehicons contracted as a result.”

“You did not ask what it was?”

“I was told it was mandatory. At a certain point, you learned not to question it. Besides, I trusted Knock-Out. He's not a perfect mech, but he has a good spark somewhere under all that vanity.” Starscream smiled at Optimus. “Which, in all fairness, worked well sometimes. I remember when we had to update our anti-virus. Knock-Out told me half the vehicons fainted when they saw the needle, and at least a quarter tried to run. Breakdown gave someone a hard reset, set them back on the gurney, and they got the needle straight to the spinal strut. I wouldn’t have gone if I’d known what to expect.”

“I remember that patch coming out. I went first, so my team could see that it was nothing to fear.” Optimus rubbed his arm, phantom pain from his memory lightly activating his pain receptors. “It was...uncomfortable.”

“That’s just the kind of leader you are. I admire that.” Starscream squeezed his servo.

“Thank you, my spark.” Optimus looked ahead. Starscream realized that he’d been looking at him the whole time. “We are nearly there.”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“You will soon see. And I have no doubt that you will like it.” Optimus pivoted and changed course, pushing through the sea of trees off the well-worn path, keeping Starscream behind him in an effort to build tension. Starscream stumbled along behind him. “This is my favourite place on this planet. I wish I could take you to my most favourite place of all time, but we cannot return to Cybertron as of yet. When we do, I will take you.”

“You...I suspected you were reading it, but...you read the whole Vos courtship manual, didn’t you.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t have to things exactly as they are in there. I pick and choose which traditions I follow from my culture, no reason you have to be strict.” He didn’t. As much as Starscream appreciated the gesture...Vos was his home, but they were a little behind on some things.

Plus, following the rituals exactly led to painful self-realization. Physically and emotionally.

“I want to give you the courtship you deserve, that you would have gotten if we stayed on our home planet, had the war never raged on.”

“We likely wouldn’t have met without this war, not as we are now.”

“I believe Primus would have brought us together somehow.” Optimus halted, forcing Starscream to suddenly stop, being pulled back behind him. “We have arrived.”

Starscream looked out over a cliff, his optics widening and his intake hitching. The moon and the stars seemed close enough to touch, and they shimmered on a small lake nestled within the trees. Everything seemed to sparkle. His lips split into a smile, looking from Optimus to the cliff. Optimus nodded and let go of his servo. Starscream ran forward, looking out over the waters. He scanned the water, finding the same assortment of life within as the trees and the sky. He tried to see where the water ended and the trees began, but even his sensors couldn’t find it. He looked up at the sky, longing to transform and soar through it, longing to try to touch the moon and dance with the stars. Ratchet’s warning replayed in his CPU. They were still reconnecting to his processor, and he couldn't transform yet. Optimus put a reassuring servo on his shoulder. “This,” he said, a smile on his face, “is my favourite place on Earth.”

Optimus watched Starscream look out over the cliff with joy in his spark. He’d rarely seen his lover so unabashedly happy. He’d discovered the cliff by accident during a patrol, and revisited it frequently when he needed time away from the team to think (often about the very mech he was currently there with). He pulled two small energon cubes from his subspace and sat down on the cliff’s edge, his legs swinging over the edge. After a few moments, Starscream joined him, eagerly taking the cube. He downed it in one swig and rested his helm on Optimus’s shoulder. His helm decorations poked his chin, but Optimus didn’t care. He felt so very warm inside. “This is beautiful,” Starscream whispered.

“You are beautiful.”

“Hmm. So are you.” Starscream purred, nuzzling into his neck cables. “I’m glad you brought me here.”

“I am as well. Even this majesty seems ever more gorgeous with you next to me.”

Starscream laughed. “Do you even mean half the sappy things you say?”

“I believe all of it. I rarely, if ever, lie.” Sometimes it hurt his spark, how Starscream took any affection to have a hidden edge. He couldn't fault him, but it still stung.

Starscream looked at him for a few kliks. “I know. That’s what never ceases to amaze me.”

“There is little to be gained from dishonesty. Surely, you know that well.”

“I do,” Starscream admitted, looking at his servos folded in his lap. “What have I really accomplished by lying? I stayed alive, sure, but what kind of life was I living?”

“Have you lied to anyone since you’ve been with us?”

“Other than...to the children, about the dark energon situation?” Starscream asked.

“Other than them,” Optimus said quietly.

“Miko asked me if she’d look good with green highlights. I didn’t have it in me to tell her that I thought it would make her look like she had an incurable disease.”

Optimus chuckled. “I doubt that would have stopped her.”

“No,” Starscream agreed, “I don’t think it would.”

Optimus lifted one of Starscream’s servos from his lap, clasping it in his own. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you happy here, my spark?”

“Yes. But, if I’m being honest, we could live in a cave on a back-water planet and I’d be happy, as long as I was with you. Though,” he gave Optimus a smirk, “I would much prefer the apartments of the Primes. I’ve heard they were opulent.”

“I did not live in one. I had no interest in splendour, only in protecting Cybertron.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“But, if my lover wanted it, I would move into one, if only so he could live in the lap of luxury.”

“No. We’ll buy a ship, a nice big one, so we could have a lab on board, and we’ll travel across the galaxy, just like you always wanted us to. I’ll collect samples and experiment, and we’ll line its halls with the treasures we find during our adventures. I’ll take you to my favourite places in the universe.” Starscream’s optics seemed to sparkle as he talked. “We’ll forget about war and about factions. It’ll just be us, forever.”

“I would like that.” Optimus pressed a kiss to Starscream’s helm.

“You know what I would like?” Starscream purred, running a clawed digit up Optimus’s thigh. Optimus felt his engines start to heat, and the familiar burning energy gather at his core. It had been a few solar cycles since they were last intimate, due to the healing required after the wing restoration. Still, he resisted temptation. He’d taken desperate frags in the woods when they were in an illicit affair. Now they were properly courting. He preferred a berth.

“Not here.” He placed the questing claw on the ground. “When we get back.”

“Ugh, fine.” Starscream pouted, sitting up and crossing his arms.

“I don’t want you to scrape your beautiful wings on rocks or branches.” Optimus ran a hand along a wing to support his point, the seeker whimpering and trembling at the touch.

“I hate that you’re right.” Starscream leaned back, taking his wings out of reach. “As much as I want to get under your armour, I think I’d like to stay here for a few moments longer.”

“Of course, my spark. We’ll stay as long as you like.” Optimus scooted closer to Starscream, wrapping one arm around him, watching the world around them with a renewed sense of wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the next chapter will be the...happy ending to the date. Why? Because you guys deserve it, and I wanted to write it. 
> 
> Then, things will get more serious again as Optimus and the team balance finding energon, stopping Megatron, looking for relics, and dealing with their two newest recruits (and a third, coming soon...)
> 
> As always, thank you folkx for the support of this *checks word count* novel-length Transformers fanfiction. Sweet Primus. I'm so grateful you're along for the ride with me. 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	23. Chapter Sixteen: Everything I Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus and Starscream end their date very, very happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Explicit sexual content
> 
> Chapter title taken from "everything I wanted" by Billie Eilish: https://youtu.be/qCTMq7xvdXU

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

Everything I Wanted

The command centre was empty but for Ratchet and Smokescreen when Optimus and Starscream made their way through the ground-bridge. They could hear the two mechs bickering before they’d even crossed through the swirling portal into their base.

“There, fixed it. Primus. Was that so hard? It’s like you weren’t listening to a fragging thing I said!” Ratchet snapped, his massive servos waving over the console, his frame leaning just-so-subtly into Smokescreen’s space. Optimus noticed that he was blocking the other mech from getting too close to the controls for the bridge system.

Smokescreen held his ground. “I was paying attention! You don’t have to talk to me like I’ve never seen bridge controls before. It’s not like the elite guard didn’t use ground-bridge technology.” Smokescreen huffed.

“Oh, you’re so experienced? Then why did you send the bridge to the wrong location? You’re lucky it was a field in the middle of nowhere, Ohio, or we’d have a gigantic problem on our servos.” Ratchet growled, the wrench of doom shaking in his servos. Optimus wasn’t even sure why he’d brought it from the med bay to the command centre unless he anticipated whacking Smokescreen over the helm with it. “Have you ever read a map before, cadet?”

“I’m no cadet, and yes, I have!” Smokescreen retorted. “It’s not my fault that I was taught on a different machine. Our bridge generators are a little more advanced than this hunk of junk.”

“This ‘hunk of junk’ has been working just fine since we got here, and we didn’t exactly have the options to grab the best of the best slag when we were fleeing Primus-damned Megatron!”

Optimus and Starscream looked at each other. While they were eager to make their way to their quarters, they also felt they should let their two teammates know they were there. Optimus also wanted to stop this before it got out of servo. “Good evening, my friends,” Optimus said, his voice louder than usual, trying to distract the two arguing mechs before him. It did not appear to work. Smokescreen and Ratchet were still arguing, starting to get angrier and angrier at each other, if their tone was any indication.

“Get off my spinal strut, medic! Like you knew how to perform surgery right away!” Smokescreen was starting to shout.

“Yeah, but I’d be expected to know an aft from a face-plate, and I’m not entirely sure you know the difference!” Ratchet snapped back.

Optimus heard a little rumble beside him. Starscream groaned, his irritation reaching its peak. “Hey, fraggers!” The seeker yelled out. The two mechs finally stopped arguing, turning to Starscream with matching indignant expressions on their faces. “Are you going to turn off the bridge or not? I have places to be!”

“Yeah, like your quarters.” Ratchet scoffed.

“And?” Starscream quirked a brow-ridge. “So what? Surely you know how dates usually finish. You’ve been on dates, right?”

“Mine usually ended differently. I wasn’t that kind of bot.” Ratchet moved over, giving Smokescreen access to the console again. “Try to turn the thing off, Smokey. Surely you can manage that.”

“Ratchet...” Optimus warned. If Optimus was being honest, he was starting to feel a little bad for his new recruit. Starscream liked him, though whether he actually liked Smokescreen or just liked tormenting him with innuendos and obscure human television references was anybody’s guess. Bulkhead tolerated him, Bumblebee...well, Optimus wasn’t sure about how he felt, but he wasn’t openly hostile. Ratchet and Arcee, however, were not reacting well to his presence. Arcee had never gotten along with the more....enthusiastic members of the Autobot cause, and Ratchet didn’t like young bots very much. Which was a shame. Optimus was starting to like the elite guardsman. He was a loyal soldier, and relentlessly positive. Smokescreen seemed to take it all in stride, but every mech had their breaking point. “I recall an incident where you accidentally welded one of your patients' servos to their aft. I would have a little more patience if I were you.”

Optimus couldn’t tell if Ratchet looked embarrassed or homicidal, but Smokescreen and Starscream’s riotous laughter were making the medic’s optic twitch. _Homicidal it is, then_ , Optimus thought, wondering if he could escape the wrench of doom in time. “You did what?” Starscream doubled over, holding his midsection. Smokescreen leaned back, then forward, slapping his knee-joints and grabbing onto the railing near the console for stability.

“I was dry, I hadn’t recharged, and you don’t get to judge me.” Ratchet narrowed his optics. However, Optimus noticed that his mouth was twitching, like he was trying not to smile. Smokescreen turned the ground-bridge off without incident and went right back to laughing. “Besides, Ultra Magnus was a great sport about the whole thing.”

“Ultra Magnus?! You welded....oh, my, Primus. I can’t wait to get back to Cybertron and tell the other guardsmen about this.”

“As long as you don’t tell them it was me, you can do whatever you like.” Ratchet said, starting to relax. He looked at Optimus and Starscream, finally allowing his face-plate to break into a grin. “What are you two still doing here? Get out of here! You’ve got a date to finish. Just...”

“If you’re going to lecture me on not ripping my stitches or sutures, I’m going to scream. You told me that before we left!”

Ratchet sighed. “And be careful. We haven’t fixed all the...internal damage yet.” Ratchet looked from Smokescreen to Starscream, very clearly telegraphing that he didn’t want to go into too much detail with their new recruit present.

Starscream nodded, understanding instantly. “Got it. We’ll be good.”

“But not too good.” Ratchet winked at them. “If I don’t hear you from the med bay, I’ll start questioning your skills.”

Starscream let out an indignant squawk. Optimus grabbed his lover and hauled him out of the room before the two could get into it.

#

Starscream tackled him against the berth-room door as soon as it shut. Optimus was surprised at his lover’s boldness, but he wasn’t complaining, not when Starscream was enthusiastically sliding his glossa into his open mouth and grinding their hips together. Optimus wrapped his arms around Starscream, rubbing his wings as he held him close. Starscream mewled, latching himself to the cables and wires in Optimus’s neck, licking and biting and sucking until Optimus’s knee-joints were weak and he could feel himself sliding down the wall. It was amazing how quickly Starscream could reduce him to that. It was like the seeker was pre-programmed with his weak spots, and he was all-too-happy to exploit them. He grabbed Starscream by the aft, picking him up like he weighed nothing, and walked them both to the berth.

Optimus was aware, however, that if he were to tackle his smaller-framed lover onto the soft surface and frag him senseless, like every synapse in his CPU was screaming at him to do, he could hurt Star very badly. Instead, he sat down on the edge, allowing Starscream’s ecstatic kissing and forceful necking to push them both back onto the berth, Optimus maneuvering them both to allow their frames to writhe against each other without their knee joints hanging over the edge. Starscream’s whole frame was hot, his engines deafeningly loud, his mouth wet and warm where it met Optimus’s derma. Optimus gently pushed Starscream off of him, laughing a little at the whine he let out. “Let me catch my breath, my love,” Optimus chided. “It has been a while since we were able to get this...intense.”

“It has, hasn’t it.” Starscream himself sat up, letting Optimus see his heaving chassis and the flush on his face-plate and the little wet streaks from where Optimus’s glossa had swiped across his cheeks. “Last time we tried anything we had to fumble around, trying to avoid the stitches. Now we can get back to business as usual. Not that there’s ever such a thing as business as usual with us.”

“No, I suppose not. I feel like this might not even be true ‘business as usual’, either. I feel a desperation to have you that I have had to ignore for the long quartexes of your recovery.” Optimus reached out for his lover, stroking any part of his body he could reach. Starscream moaned and stretched out, giving Optimus more to touch and feel. Optimus’s servo was gentle on his lover’s leg, massaging his ankle joint and working his way up, stopping short just shy of his interface panel. His hungry optics zeroed in on the rapidly heating metal. The whirring of his lover’s fans combined with the revving of his engine filling the room with a pleasant buzzing drone.

Starscream made a wheezing sound, prompting Optimus to look up and meet his optics. Starscream’s face-plate was flushed darker than Optimus had ever seen it, the usually grey metal nearly orange with the sheer heat of it. He was hiding part of his beautiful face-plate with his servo, only the tiniest sliver of his wide red optics visible through his digits. Optimus gently reached up and pulled the servo down, pinning it to Starscream’s side. His lover looked at him with confusion, but no fear. This was progress. Optimus leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Starscream’s inner thigh. “None of that, my spark. I want to see you, and all the expressions on your beautiful face-plate. It has been too long.”

Starscream smiled softly. “It has, hasn’t it? Since before...”

“Before we were living together,” Optimus finished. He’d been paying attention to Rung’s therapy modules. He wanted to reframe some of the bad things they’d been through together, and focus on the good, positive things that came out of it. Like getting to wake up together every morning, and getting to fall into recharge together, and getting to hold each other’s servos while they watched television. All these small little things that they might have had to wait for a long time to have otherwise. “Yes. It has been some time since we interfaced, and I missed feeling your panel against mine.”

Starscream chuckled. “I want to make a snarky remark, but I’ve missed this too.” The look in his optics was warm and full of love. “It’s been the worst part of being injured. That and the internal bleeding. I was not a fan of that.”

“Yes.” Optimus shuddered to think of the pain his love endured. “Shall we begin? I do not want to wait any longer. I must have you.”

“Oh, frag yes.” Starscream retracted his interface panels with a loud click, spreading his legs so his leaking valve and rigid spike were on full display. “What do you want to do, my love? Spike me? Let me sink into your valve? Or do you just want me to suck every drop of transfluid out of you?”  
  


Optimus wasn’t sure which option he liked best. They all sounded great, but he wanted his lover to feel pleasure too, more than he wanted to feel it himself. “What do you crave most?”

Starscream rolled his optics playfully. “I asked you first. But if I had to choose...” Starscream tapped his chin, miming thinking. “I feel empty. Can’t you see my valve clenching for you? It’s like it needs your spike to fill it up.”

Optimus could indeed see it. Every clench, in fact, and he could practically feel the heat rolling off it. He wondered how his spike would survive being in such a furnace, but he didn’t care. “Alright, my spark. I will grab our lubricant, and...”

Starscream growled and surged forward, climbing on top of Optimus. “I guess you weren’t looking hard enough. Can’t you see how wet I am? How much I need you? Forget the lube. Take me now.”

“Are you sure?” Optimus asked nervously. “You are still technically in recovery. I do not want to hurt you.”

“I don’t give a slag.” Starscream’s claws tapped at Optimus’s reproductive panel. “Open up, or I pry it open.”

Optimus took a deep inhale and nodded, retracting his panel and his spike housing, letting the organ depressurize. It was a relief. The poor thing was starting to get sore, trapped behind glass. Starscream licked his lips and climbed on top of him, roughly adjusting the spike until the tip just gently caressed the swollen, dripping folds of his valve. The seeker’s only warning was a wink before he sank down, letting out an almost unintelligible whine as he fully seated Optimus’s spike inside him.

That shattered all the patience Optimus had left. He flipped their positions, pulling Starscream’s legs over his shoulder-plates. The seeker whimpered, and Optimus wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure. Starscream met his optics and snarled. “Ignore that. Keep going.”

“Are you...”

“It’s nothing I’m not used to.” Optimus felt his panic algorithm begin. Starscream dug his claws into the arm bending him in half. “For the love of Primus, if you don’t start fragging me like you mean it, I’m going to...Ah!”

Optimus started thrusting roughly, giving Starscream what he seemed to be asking for. “How is this, then?”

“Good. It’s...good.” His lover’s words and his demeanour were vastly opposed. Starscream didn’t seem sure about feeling good anymore. His face-plate was pinched and his lips were curled, but not in a good way, not in a way that suggested pleasure. Optimus slowed his thrusts, despite his excitement at having the familiar valve of his lover around him once again, trying to be as gentle as he could. The pain on Star’s face-plate wasn’t going away. It seemed to be getting worse.

Optimus stopped, slowing down completely. Starscream was whimpering, but not in a way that hinted at pleasure. “What are you doing?” Starscream snapped.

“I cannot continue in good conscience,” Optimus said, sighing. “I am hurting you, and I cannot do that to someone I love.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You’re whimpering.”

Starscream looked away. “It hurts, but it’ll get better.”

“Is it in your valve, or....”

“No. That feels fine, thank Xal. It’s my spinal struts, some of my cables and pistons...I’m just sore, is all. I’m sure I’ll feel better if we keep going.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Optimus said, slowly pulling out. “I never want our lovemaking to be painful, for any reason. We will just have to wait for a little longer until you’re fully recovered.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Starscream grumbled.

Optimus slowly lowered Starscream’s legs, rocking back onto his ankle-joints. “Forgive me, my spark.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s my fault.” Starscream let out a sigh. “I guess I don’t use those particular cables that much outside the berth. I suppose I didn’t know that they were...like that, or I wouldn’t have suggested finishing our evening like this.”

“If by suggested, you mean very directly initiating interfacing...”

“Semantics.”

“Recovery is not linear, my spark. Some of your processes may have returned to normal, but we do not always know what our frames can and cannot do after an injury until we stress that particular part. I have no doubt that soon, you will be back to your old self.”

“Yeah,” Starscream said, pushing himself up. “You’re right. This is just like any other injury. Doesn’t help us tonight, does it?”

“I guess not,” Optimus said, gently smiling at his lover. He didn’t want their date to end like this, selfish as that was. It was their first date, Primus damn it all, and he wanted it to end with a great overload for both of them. Not with...whatever this was. Then, an idea dawned on him. “Lay back, my spark?”

“Why?” Starscream asked, but he still did as he was told. Optimus shuffled down until he was between Starscream’s legs once more. His lover hadn’t closed his panel yet. Good. That would make this easier.

Optimus would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been thinking of this for quartexes, and the opportunity had finally presented itself. He wasn’t letting his go to waste. He leaned forward, letting himself experience his favourite valve close up. It was hard to see anything, the whole thing was so covered in fluid, but he could still see how soft it all was, how proudly the exterior node stuck out, and how if he looked just right he could see the anterior and interior node too. He smiled, licking his lips. This was delectable. It was like being given the finest high-grade, and his CPU was already spinning.

“Optimus?” Starscream asked, his voice going up a few octaves. Optimus looked up, Starscream tilting his face-plate up by his audial fins. “What are you doing down there?”

Optimus laughed, his hot exhale warming the mesh of Starscream’s valve. The organ twitched under him, Starscream writhing with it. “Do you remember when we first interfaced in that forest, all those quartexes ago?”

Starscream nodded. “How could I forget? It’s one of the happiest moments of my life.”

Optimus wanted to melt from the sincerity in his words. He could have had his spark fail and go to the well of allsparks at that moment and he would have offlined happily. “Mine as well, my spark. I remember the encounter with vivid details despite how our interfacing has only improved over time. Today, I am recalling something I wanted to do, but we could not at the time due to time constraints. Do you remember what it is?”

Starscream was silent for a moment. “I...I don’t remember. I think you fragged my CPU out, that day. Which you promised to do, so I’m not complaining.”

“Well,” Optimus said, leaning forward and licking at the edges of Starscream’s interface panel, “luckily for you, I do.” The metal beneath his glossa was hot enough to burn, the scent of ozone and built-up transfluid overpowering, and it was delicious. Optimus felt himself produce more digestive fluid, the desire to taste slowly driving him mad with need. “I said I wanted to taste you. And I still have not done so. I feel this is an error that must be corrected.”

The sound Starscream made was like someone punched the air from his filtration system. He wheezed, then moaned, then made a strange high-pitched noise in the back of his throat. “I...I think I remember something, to that effect.”

“Good,” Optimus smirked, his digits coming to tease at the seams of his lover’s groin. “Do you want me to?”

“I, uh...” Starscream said nervously, looking around. “I do, I just...” He covered his face-plate with his servos, hiding his lovely optics from view. “I’ve never done that before.”

“What do you mean, my spark?”

“I’ve never performed, had, or let, for that matter, anyone perform oral on me before,” Starscream admitted quietly. “I’m nervous. What if I taste weird? What if I look weird?”

“You are beautiful, from your helm fin to your pede tips. Your whole array is a work of art.” Optimus rubbed soothing circles into Starscream’s thigh. “I thought it would be a good way to start our interfacing again, without causing your healing valve and musculature too much pain. If you do not want to, we do not have to. I can stroke and suck at your spike if you would rather. I do enjoy it, it’s quite pretty.”

“Don’t call it pretty,” Starscream whined. “It’s emasculating.”

“That does not change that your entire body, including your spike, is aesthetically pleasing. I think I would like to taste that too, while I am down here.”

Starscream let out the highest-pitched whine Optimus had ever heard. “I think my spark is convulsing. You’re going to kill me.” Starscream complained. “This is how I’m going to die. I mean, I always anticipated being killed by you, but this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Should I at least make you overload before you die?” Optimus asked.

Starscream propped himself up on his elbow-joints. “You really want to do this. It’s not embarrassing to you?”

“Why would it be?”

“Isn’t it a little...beneath you?”

“No, my sweet. Unless you are referring to how I am literally beneath you at this moment.”

Starscream flicked him in the forehelm with a long claw. “Not the point. If you don’t think it’s humiliating...”

“Unlike...others,” Optimus decided it was best not to say the name, “I do not see pleasing my partner as embarrassing or weak. In fact, I revel in making them feel pleasure. I love watching you fall apart and scream my name. I want to know you fully, and that includes the taste of your valve and the way your lines pulse against my intake.” Optimus felt Starscream’s entire body heat at those words. “Please?”

Starscream nodded. “Yes. You...you can....do those things. If it’s what you want.” He flopped back down to the berth, hiding his flusteredness, transfluid immediately gushing out onto the berth. Optimus breathed in deeply, enjoying the deep heady aroma. “Don’t do that,” Starscream pleaded. “Xal, this is humiliating.”

“I find it flattering that you are this aroused by me.” Optimus leaned forward, giving Starscream’s spike a tentative kitten lick, chasing a rivet of transfluid dripping down the non-unsubstantial shaft. “And you smell wonderful. You should see my interface array, my spark. I assure you, it is this wet.”

Starscream let out a stuttering intake, looking down at Optimus, his claws digging into the berth. “It is?”

“How could I not be, when I have you above me like this?” Optimus asked, leaning forward and gently teasing the outer folds of Starscream’s valve, ghosting over his outer node. Starscream made a sound somewhere between a scream and a shriek, and Optimus was suddenly very glad that his quarters were far away from the rest of his team. Not that they weren’t expecting to hear it, given their romantic outing earlier in the evening, but Primus, Starscream was loud. He really earned his name, especially when Optimus stopped the teasing and gently sucked on the outer node. Starscream started to thrash and Optimus pulled back, alarmed. “Are you alright, my spark? Are you hurt?”

Starscream shook his helm. “No, I...I’m fine. That felt really good. I’m not used to this feeling. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“If you stop, I’ll shoot you.” Starscream panted, a smile on his radiant face-plate. “Keep going. Please.”

Optimus went back in, suckling the outer node, moving from the outer node to the dripping valve beneath back up to the proud spike sticking out above all of it. He put his servos on Starscream’s hips, trying to keep him still as he worked him open, licking and prodding, feeling the charge build up on his glossa. That was tingly and pleasant, though keeping Starscream still was very, very difficult. He was thrashing and writhing and screaming his pleasure. When the charge was about to expel, Optimus shifted, moving down to tease at the anterior and interior nodes, licking properly at the valve itself. Starscream was pushing against his face-plate, trying to get him deeper. Optimus was aware of his own limits and knew there was no way his glossa was getting deeper. He lowered one servo to his own array, stroking up and down his spike, while his other servo went to Starscream’s valve, gently working in and out as he moved to give Starscream’s spike a long, deep suck.

“Oh, Xal!” Starscream yelled out, his charge building again. “Don’t stop. Please, for the love of Xal, don’t fragging stop.”

Optimus could feel how hot the valve he was opening really was, and how the nodes within pulsed as he prodded them. He moved his own servo faster. He was going to overload at the same time as Star, he was determined.

Optimus could feel Starscream’s charge building once more. How could he not? He could see everything about Starscream’s frame, from the frantic heaving of his chassis to the way his legs were quaking, his optics flashing and his intake flopped open, glossa hanging out, and his valve clenching and biolights pulsing. Starscream was silent now, his inhales raspy and shaky, just as he always was before he overloaded. And the electricity? Optimus could feel it everywhere he was touching Starscream. He didn’t want to keep him up too long, as that risked frying some circuits. If he had to explain to Ratchet how that happened....no, he wasn’t going to think about that. Optimus pulled off his spike, earning a protest from Starscream in old Vos, his CPU reverting back to his first language, and moved back to licking his valve open. Starscream’s legs started to vibrate, twitching so much Optimus was sure he was going to get a kick for his troubles. It didn’t matter. He sped up his servo, feeling his own charge build. He decided the best of both worlds would be a great idea. Optimus leaned in, sliding a digit into the wet valve to prod at the inner node and sucking hard on the outer node.

Starscream let out the loudest scream Optimus had ever heard, his charge releasing, travelling all through his frame, making his limbs shake and his optics white out. Optimus felt his own valve clench and his spike tense, and he soon joined Starscream, keeping his mouth on Starscream’s valve until both of their last spasms were finished. After a few long moments, Optimus pulled back to look at his handiwork.

Starscream was still flushed, still panting, and looking up at him. “Why haven’t we been doing that longer?” Starscream asked, laughing. His optics darted down to Optimus’s panel. “You...”

“I overloaded too, my sweet.” Optimus purred, lining down next to his lover and pulling him close. “How could I not, watching you writhe like that?”

Starscream laughed to himself. “I am extremely alluring, I will admit. I’d let you spike me. Slag, I’d let you do whatever you want to me, after an overload like that.”

“Luckily for you,” Optimus laughed, nuzzling into Starscream’s neck, “all I want is a cuddle. Would that be acceptable?”

Starscream yawned. “I suppose I can live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating has officially gone up. I feel like three sex scenes is a little too many to keep it at "M". 
> 
> Just a little break from the main plot for some porn with feelings. Of course, Starscream's recovery is the subplot, and that is how I'm justifying this. I hope you lovely people enjoy this brief (main timeline!) detour.
> 
> I'm going to try to have the next chapter ready for next week, but I also have a paper due so I'm not making any promises.
> 
> Soapbox corner: For my readers with vaginas...even if you think you're wet enough that you don't need lube, you do. At the very least, you should have it on hand, just in case. And, it shouldn't need to be said, but if you feel pain during sexual intercourse, you need to stop. Immediately. If your partner doesn't want to or doesn't listen, kick their ass. 
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


	24. Chapter Seventeen: Try to Tear me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream starts training again (and it doesn't go according to plan), Optimus is left disappointed by a team member, and a crucial decision is made that affects morale and Optimus's state of mind.
> 
> Good thing he has his lover around for...stress relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past emotional abuse
> 
> Chapter title taken from "Thoughtless" by Korn: https://youtu.be/xVPvzX-AeSM

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

**Try To Tear Me Down**

Starscream hoped he’d finally found the right hallway since he had no interest in wasting more time wandering around the base trying to find the training room. He’d already seen more of the base than he ever thought he would, and he was pretty sure Ratchet was considering scanning his head since he’d passed the med bay at least twice. He was in a part of the base he’d never seen before, and that was a great sign.

He heard sounds of grunting, groaning and straining from a room at the far end of the hallway. Starscream couldn’t help slumping his shoulders and letting out a deep, whiny exhale. He huffed to himself. He’d been injured too long. Hauling his tiny aft from place to place was infinitely more taxing than it should have been. He used to be such a lovely figure, strutting around any space he found himself in like he owned it, his pedes clack-clacking on the floor (like that fancy gentleman from the TV sang in his song). Now he was half-winded by the time he made it to the door. If he was going to be going on more missions (eventually, whenever Optimus forgave him and Ratchet wouldn’t have a conniption) he needed to get back into shape. Hence, why he was making his way to the training room while Optimus was busy meeting with Fowler about their new arrival and Ratchet was busy being Ratchet.

At least he could still make a dramatic entrance. He wasn’t stopping to get his intakes regular, he wanted to enter at the right time. That was it. He leaned against the wall next to the door, poking his head in just a bit to take in what his workout was going to look like.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Arcee admitted, watching Bumblebee and Bulkhead set up the training room nervously. Smokescreen leaned against the wall, casually resting as his teammates worked. “Did Ratchet say this was okay?”

“More or less,” Bulkhead grunted, heaving a punching bag off his shoulder to the waiting hook above. The chain clinked as it moved, the absurdly heavy bag swaying back and forth, the ceiling starting to buckle under its weight.

“More or less? What does that mean, exactly?”

“He says that Starscream is ready to start exercising if he wants to. And he wants to.”

“That doesn’t mean we should start him off with sparring!” Arcee protested. “He’s terrible at close quarters combat, he’s going to get hurt, and then Ratchet’s going to yell at us and I don’t even know what boss-bot’s going to do, and...”

“Relax.” Starscream wandered into the room, deeming it an appropriate time to enter. He tried to push both of the doors open, but only managed one. It was hard to make a dramatic entrance into the small training room, by Cybertronian standards. It was full with just the five of them. “I know my limits. I’ll only let you lovely bots hurt me a little bit.”

“That’s not funny.” Arcee glared at him. “If you get hurt at all...”

“Optimus won’t hurt you, and you know that. Stop worrying! I just want to learn a bit of CQC, since I’m apparently terrible at it.” Arcee’s face-plate heated with a deep flush. Starscream smirked at her and started stretching, trying to work some of the surface-level kinks out of his cables. “So, what are we doing today?”

Bulkhead stepped forward, apparently the mastermind behind his training regimen. That was...worrying. He’d seen the wreckers fight. He didn’t want to know what they’d have to do to gain that ability. He wasn’t sure he could take it. “I was thinking of starting with a quick spar, so we can see where you’re at for your strength, and endurance and current ability. Since we haven’t really seen you fight much since your injury.” Starscream opened his mouth to talk, “And stabbing an Insecticon through the chassis doesn’t count.”

“Alright. Who will be my partner, then?” Starscream asked casually, looking from Autobot to Autobot. If he’d thought they looked sick when he was joking around, they looked even more ready to upchuck their energon. All except for Bumblebee, who stepped forward with a big smile. “Excellent!” And it was. Starscream had been a little worried about the others. Arcee was smaller than him, Smokescreen was bigger than him, and Bulkhead was substantially bigger than him. Bumblebee was right around the same size. Thicker, but most ground forms were. Hopefully, he’d go easy on him. “How shall we do this?”

Bumblebee led him over to the punching bag. “Oh, so we’ll start with that, right?” A terrifying smile crossed Bumblebee’s face-plate. Bee shook his head and led him over to a different punching bag, one laced with LEDs. Starscream gulped. “Right?”

“Just go over there and find out, ‘Screamer,” Arcee said, the same smile on her face-plate, the same look mirrored on Bulkhead and Smokescreen. This did not bode well.

#

Starscream was right to be fearful.

The punching bag was mechanized. Who knew? As soon as he hit it, it hit back. He’d seen these before in some of the more expensive gyms at home: it was a kinetic energy re-emitter, hitting back Starscream with the same force he’d hit it with. He wasn’t sure how that was supposed to teach him how to fight, and he was pretty sure he’d have to limp to the med bay afterwards.

That wasn’t even the worst part. Every time Starscream got thrown across the room one of the members of Team Prime would attack, forcing him to dodge an attack or strike back when he was completely disoriented. He’d managed one hit, on Bee, but Bulkhead had nailed him in the mid-section and Smokescreen had stomped one of his knee-caps. He’d managed to dodge Arcee, and then it was back to the bag. Because of course, it was. Over and over, until his punches were so weak he was barely pushed back a single damn inch from the bag, and the others didn’t even get close to him.

Starscream panted, his under-used engines overheating. He could feel his cables aching from the strain but he didn’t want to stop. He could feel all the pain sensors in both servos, but he didn’t want to stop. Smokescreen, running forward to take his turn to get a shot in, stepped back as he took in Starscream’s doubled over form. She stepped back, looking over Starscream with a confused and concerned expression. “Uh, Star?”

“Yes?” Starscream wheezed, trying to stand back up to his full height. He cracked his neck joints, letting out some of the air between his spinal struts, and wiped the energon dripping out of his open intake.

“Maybe we should stop. You seem...I dunno, you seem like you’re getting hurt.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Starscream snapped, going back (with some difficulties and soreness) into his fighting stance. “Do you want to stop? If you can’t keep going, there’s no shame in it.”

“I should say the same to you,” Smokescreen responded. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I will decide when I’m ready to stop,” Starscream growled. “I can keep going.”

Bulkhead and Bee looked at each other. “I think we’re ready to stop for the solar-cycle, actually.”

Starscream growled. “Come on. I thought you were training me. All I’ve learned today is that there are punching bags that punch back and that Smokey isn’t afraid to aim for the weak joints.”

“This is how the Elite Guard and the Wreckers train.” Bulkhead explained, Bumblebee beeping at his side. “But...you’re not an Elite Guard or a Wrecker. I think we realized that maybe we should train you like a seeker. Or a new recruit.”

“I am not a new recruit.” Starscream’s optics narrowed. “I was a commander.”

“Of seekers. You didn’t start combat missions until the war.” Starscream looked away. Bulkhead was right. He hadn’t been a fighter, hadn’t been forged one, until he’d had to be. He’d managed quite well, he’d thought, to learn combat, but CQC never felt natural to him. He’d rip out a spark or stab through the chassis, but he was outmatched by most ground forms (which Megatron so kindly reminded him of following every defeat). He’d thought that he’d be able to keep up with these fools. He had overestimated his own abilities to assume so. “We’ll try again in a few solar-cycles.”

“A few...I can go again tomorrow!” Starscream protested. They thought he was weak. He could tell. He’d come back tomorrow and wipe the floor with all of them, just to prove that he was a warrior, that he could, that he wasn’t weak anymore...

Anymore. His processor stuck on that word. Perhaps that was the problem. That he’d been so weak for so long that being strong was foreign to him now.

“You think you can, but you’re still healing.” Arcee piped up, prepared to be the voice of reason. Starscream had a feeling she was well used to that, having to deal with sentimental, unreasonable mechs solar-cycle in and solar-cycle out. Of which he supposed he was one. “No one holds that against you, but...you’re not...100% yet.” Starscream wanted to live up to his namesake. He didn’t give a frag if they held it against him. _He_ held it against _him_. He knew he wasn’t 100% yet, but he refused to admit it. He was still the same fearsome mech he’d always been in his own CPU. It wasn’t his fault his body refused to play along!

Arcee continued. “It’s not such a bad thing to take a break. I’m sure there are things you’d rather do than get beat up by the four of us.”  
  
Starscream sighed, looking at the four nodding face-plates around him. There was no changing their processors. All his protests had fallen on switched-off audials. He nodded, conceding defeat. He turned and left the training room silently, leaving the rest of the team standing stunned behind him. He thought he heard Bumblebee call after him, but he couldn't, wouldn't, turn around to face them.

_Perhaps I_ _have_ _overdone it_ , he thought, walking down the hallway back to his quarters. Limping was probably a better descriptor of how he was moving, but he would not use it. His pride hurt so much that it was almost physically painful, as painful as the ache in his cables and pistons. His only saving grace was that Optimus hadn’t been there to see his humiliation.

He knew that the team meant well and that they were trying to help him be better. They were acting out of kindness, probably. It probably made them feel better to get a few shots in at him, after all the havoc he had wrought. He couldn't remember the word the sages of Vos had used, but he knew what the humans called it; karma. He knew they were concerned, and they weren’t laughing at him behind his back, but he didn’t. The processor was a difference engine, but it wasn’t always rational. It was just too similar, too close, to his life as a Decepticon.

A lot of the other ‘cons had flying alt modes, but there was something different about the seekers. They were smaller, sleeker. Starscream had spent most of the war being pushed around by bigger mechs, lording their size over him. He’d stopped training with the other soldiers, and later the vehicons because it was too easy for them to beat him on the ground. Even Megatron used this to his advantage. He was sure that Megatron wouldn't have even tried to push KO or Soundwave around, were they in his position. He’d remind Starscream after he came limping out of the training arena (once a gladiator, always a gladiator), that he should stop trying, that he’d never be good enough to beat any of them. If he ever won a match, Megatron would dismiss it as a fluke, or as a credit to his trickery and not his skill. Eventually, he just stopped trying.

Starscream’s pedes stopped on their own, having led him back to his quarters. It was nice to know that the route was so pre-programmed that he didn’t need to consciously think about it. He keyed in the code and walked in, looking for his pad. Sulking was overly dramatic. He’d just read something, distract himself enough that he could refocus on his solar-cycle.

Optimus walked out of their personal fresher, smiling at him. “Oh, you have returned. I wondered where you had gone. Ratchet said he saw you, but he did not know where you were headed.”

Starscream smiled up at him. “Oh, just for a little walk around the base. I was getting tired of just sitting around doing my modules, waiting for an alert to go off.”

“Yes, I feel the same,” Optimus said, shaking his helm. “Things have been quiet. I fear the next big push will begin soon. But, I am grateful for the respite today has offered.” He hung his towel off a nearby chair. Starscream slid over on the berth, trying to make room for his partner, wincing at the movement. Oh right. The kick to the side. Optimus’s optics lit up in concern. “My spark, is something wrong?”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Starscream said sheepishly, “but I took a spill while I was on my walk.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Hopefully, he could convince Optimus of it. “I didn’t think it was so bad until I moved just now.”

“Perhaps you should see Ratchet.”

“Ratchet has better things to do than help this clutz.” His joking tone and easy smile didn’t change Optimus’s concern whatsoever. Starscream sighed. “How about this. If I’m still sore tomorrow, then I’ll see him.”

“I can live with that.” Optimus leaned over, looking at Starscream’s pad. “What are you reading, dear one?”

“Oh, I thought I’d revisit some of the classics.” He tilted the screen. “This one translates to “A Sordid Affair”. It was the first novel written by a Vossian to see widespread appeal outside of our little city-state. I read it once, in university, because I had to. I thought perhaps I should revisit it.”

“What sort of sordid affair transpires in the novel?”

“Forbidden love. What else?” Starscream rolled his optics. “This is why I prefer actual classics. I’m so fragging bored.”

“Hmm. I assume it gets better eventually.”

“It had better.” Starscream switched the pad off. “Optimus...do you think I’m weak?”

“No?” Optimus responded, raising a brow-ridge. “Where did that come from?”

“I just...you won’t allow me in combat, I can barely take a walk without an incident...it makes one question their strength.” That was a much less convincing lie. Hopefully, Optimus wouldn't press it.

“I think you are strong, of course. As both a warrior and as a mech. The one who forged you packed a lot into a slender frame. You are just recovering. Though you may feel weak for a while, I know you will soon regain your strength.” Optimus clasped Starscream’s servos. “It is better to rest until you are well rather than rush back into business as usual. That way you will regain all your strength, rather than have to stop and recover once more.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Starscream gave Optimus a small smile. “Thank you, my [beloved and belonged]. You always know what to say.”

“It helps when one has to give rallying speeches frequently.” Optimus joked, nuzzling their face-plates together. A comm sounded in Optimus’s audial. He tapped the side of his helm, making his comm loud enough for Starscream to hear too. “Yes?”

Ratchet’s gruff voice was audible to Starscream too “We’ve got a signal, Optimus. Decepticon activity up North, in the national park. It’s the offseason for human tourism, but...”

“Say no more, old friend. I will take Smokescreen and investigate. Have the rest of the team stand by.” He tapped again, turning the comm off. “It appears I am needed.”

“The burdens of command.” Starscream stood first, offering a servo to help Optimus up. “Let’s go. Hopefully, it’s something minor, but perhaps I should too be on stand by.”

“Yes, that is a good idea. One of your strengths is your battle expertise.”

Optimus’s tone was almost sincere. Almost. “You’re just humouring me now.”

Optimus laughed. “Guilty as charged.”

Optimus’s sensors beeped gently in his audial as he drove through the forests of Northeast Nevada. No Decepticons yet. Perhaps the reports that sent them on this small mission were wrong, and perhaps the scanners back at the base picked up a false positive. Still, Optimus was grateful to have some time away from the base, and some time alone with their newest recruit. Ever since Smokescreen arrived, the fate of the Hall of Records weighed heavily on his CPU. He was starting to understand Starscream better, for it seemed like his processor gave him a terrifying nightmare of Alpha Trion’s gory demise at least once in every sleep schedule. He felt a bit guilty, using this young mech’s admiration for him to gain information. However, he hoped to gain more insight into Smokescreen as well. If his calculations were correct, Smokescreen had been with them for a quartex and a half. Somehow, it seemed like it had been both less time than that and more time than that at the same time. He hadn’t spoken to the young mech alone...at all, now that he considered it. He had been occupied with his beloved. While he valued that time, he was still a leader, and he needed to attend to all his teammates.

What was strange was that Smokescreen was very quiet. Optimus hadn’t known the elite guardsman for long, but he did know that this was out of character. It seemed to annoy the other members of Team Prime, but truthfully Optimus found it all endearing. The young mech had been falling over himself trying to impress him, and Optimus had assumed that he would jump at the chance to be alone with him. Yet as they drove through the countryside of Nevada, he was quiet. The only sound was the rumble of their engines and the sound of vegetation cracking and crunching under the tires of their alt modes. _Perhaps I need to make the first move_ , Optimus thought, clearing his vocoder. “Smokescreen. May I ask you some questions?”

“Is this about the...” Smokescreen trailed off. Optimus could feel his new friend’s optics on him, though he couldn't see them in his alt mode, reading him for his reactions.

_The...what?_ _What is he talking about?_ “I am afraid I am misunderstanding you, my friend. What do you mean?”

“Is this about the Hall of Records?” Smokescreen said, his voice high and nervous. He made a wheezing noise and his voice corrected itself. “I know you were close with Big A. You’re probably wondering how he’s doing.”

“I will admit that I have been thinking of him frequently since your arrival.” Optimus was unsure about the hitch in Smokescreen’s voice. He was acclimated to lying. Starscream made an effort, but Optimus had cycles and cycles of dealing with the seeker’s struggles with honesty behind him. So many “truces” turning into firefights and the like. Sometimes, the seeker was even believable, but Optimus still knew what happened to his candied energon. Smokescreen, as talented as he was, was a very bad liar. Optimus brushed it aside. If Smokescreen was having a crisis of conscience, he would tell him sooner rather than later. No one could keep a secret from him for long. “Tell me honestly, Smokescreen. Do you think Alpha Trion is still alive?”

“It’s Big A,” Smokescreen said like that was enough explanation. “Did you know some Cybertronians think he’s one of the Thirteen?”

Optimus was one of them. “Yes, I have heard that rumour.”

“I mean, I don’t know if it’s true, but I know that Big A is really, really old, and is probably the smartest mech on the planet. I don’t think that the Decepticons could kill him, even if they wanted to. Especially if Starscream is right and Shockwave is smart. I think they’d see the value in leaving such a wealth of information and knowledge alive.”

“I hope you are right,” Optimus said, though there wasn’t a lot of hope in his spark. He knew Shockwave before he was Shockwave, after all, but he did not know this terrible tyrant his friend Senator Roller had become. He also did not trust Megatron to recognize Alpha Trion as anything more than a symbol of oppression, and he could only pray to Primus that his friend and mentor would see the end of the conflict. “Before you left...how was he? Was he doing well?”

Smokescreen chuckled. “I have a question for you, too. Was he always so...confusing? He was always talking about prophecies and books and things he’d heard once, and the way he talked never made sense. It took me two cycles once to figure out that he wanted me to take out the garbage because he asked me in the form of a story about the Covenant of Primus.”

Optimus felt himself laugh heartily. “Yes, that is normal. I am relieved that he is still speaking in the grandiose terms he always has.”

“Oh, he does that. He’s...towards the end of my time with him, he seemed stressed, you know? I think that the duration of this whole thing has been really getting to him. I think he fears that the planet isn’t healing as it should be and that the longer this continues the less likely it is that Cybertron will go back to normal.”

Optimus was silent. He could not help but think he was part of the reason for that. He hadn’t stopped Megatron before he’d poisoned Cybertron. He hadn’t stopped Megatron after his first massacre. Or his second. Or his third. Instead of killing the source of Cybertron’s strife, he’d turned tail and ran. Optimus couldn't help but think of how many things would have been different if he’d just had a little more courage. Cybertron, his home, would be a thriving world instead of a half-dead ball of metal. Alpha Trion, his mentor, would not be a prisoner in his own hall, the sacred place he had maintained without interference for millennia. Jazz....he would see Jazz regularly, instead of being potentially light-cycles away. Starscream....would not have had to endure the full extent of Megatron’s rage if he had just been a little bit braver. Optimus felt his tires spinning down, his trek forward slowing, as the weight of his sins started to weigh more heavily on his processor.

Smokescreen noticed. He was more perceptive than he was given credit for. “But maybe it shouldn’t go back to normal, you know? I’ve seen the history clips. I’ve read some of the policies that were around at your time. Honestly, I’d revolt too. Some of the stuff they wrote about flyers was disgusting. Maybe, if this whole thing does blow over, Cybertron will be better. There are so many different kinds of Cybertronians, maybe this whole thing will show us all that we have to accept each other.”

Optimus stopped, his tires slowing to a crawl and then halting. Smokescreen did the same, engine rattling with confusion. “Thank you,” Optimus said sincerely. “You give me hope, Smokescreen. Truly.”

“Uh, thanks.” Smokescreen said bashfully as they started to drive again. “I’m looking forward to seeing what Cybertron will become. I don’t remember how it was before the war, so it’ll be like going to a whole new world.”

“I will not be there to see it, I am afraid,” Optimus said wistfully. His far-flung dream of travelling the universe with his beloved seemed more and more realistic with each passing solar-cycle. He had been starting to ponder just what model of ship he and Starscream would procure. Nothing that used to be a battlecruiser, but perhaps a science vessel...but nothing too close to what Skyfire and Starscream had made their ill-fated voyage in. As long as it had big windows to see the universe through. That was what mattered most.

“What do you mean? Do you think you’re going to...” Smokescreen trailed off.

“No, no. I do not anticipate joining the Well of All Sparks. I will defeat Megatron. Or Starscream will shoot him first.” Smokescreen laughed. Optimus continued. “No, I do not think my presence would be conducive for the future of Cybertron.”

“What do you mean?” Smokescreen sputtered. “You’re Optimus Prime! You’re the best of Cybertron.”

“The best of Cybertron at war,” Optimus said gently. “I am a symbol of the conflict that tore our world apart, though I believe our cause is just. I do not want to lead a re-unified Cybertron. I do not think that is my place, nor do I think the unaligned bots who fled the planet would return if military personnel controlled the planet.”

“I don’t know enough to say one way or the other.” Smokescreen said, a shrug in his voice that his alt-mode didn’t allow. “So what are you going to do, then, when this is all over?”

“Starscream and I plan to obtain a ship and spend a few millennia travelling,” Optimus said happily. “I want to ask him to spark-bond first. We will hold the ceremony at home, and then leave to explore the universe. Starscream does not wish to return to Cybertron for long either, for Vos is gone.” Optimus’ voice went quiet.

“Oh, right.” Smokescreen said sadly. “I guess he doesn’t really have a home anymore.”

“No, but...we’ll have one, together,” Optimus said, perking up, “I am looking forward to travelling through the galaxy with him. Just us. Perhaps, after a time, when the world has settled into a new rhythm, I will return. But not as Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. Just as Optimus.”

“Whoa. Sounds like you’ve really planned this out.”

“It is what kept me sane before my beloved came to live with us when he had to go back to Megatron after we met.” Optimus did not wish to speak of those times any longer. “Do you have anyone back home on Cybertron?” Optimus asked. Smokescreen’s engine made a strange sound. “I apologize. I do not mean to pry.”

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t been that lucky.” Smokescreen admitted. “It was too hectic to really find a partner, and then I was with Big A, and only Big A, all solar cycle, every solar cycle. It’s fine. It’ll happen when it happens, right?”

“Yes,” Optimus agreed. “Exactly right.” He hummed to himself, for the first time in a while, recalling a tune he’d only heard once but had never really left his processor. “I am enjoying this time with you, Smokescreen. It seems like things have been so busy at Omega Outpost One that it has been hard to find time for the simple things, like good conversation.” _Or any conversation at all._

“Yeah!” Smokescreen said excitedly. “I mean, I’m still pretty happy. I get to talk to the Optimus Prime on a regular basis, even if we don’t do this very often.”

Optimus’s sensors started to beep wildly. Decepticons were coming in, and coming in fast. That was why he hadn’t picked them up. He had no doubt that the signal they’d been chasing had been an attempt to lure them into an ambush. He wondered...no, they couldn’t out race their pursuers. If they’d been moving so fast that they’d managed to hide from their scanners, then there was no way they could outpace them. The only option he and Smokescreen had was the transform and stand and fight, and get away far enough to bridge back if necessary. “Smokescreen! Transform and stand to fight!”

“Are you sure, Optimus? I can out run them!”

“I cannot.” Optimus transformed back into his robot mode. “If you want to...”

“No way!” Smokescreen said, transforming much quicker than Optimus could. “I’m with you 100%, boss-bot!” He said cheerily.

Optimus nodded and smiled at him. “Spinal struts to spinal struts. They will not take us alive.”

The Decepticons approached in their alt modes, making it hard to discern if any of high command had deigned to show up to fight them. Optimus stood his ground, his servos turning into guns without conscious thought. He could tell from their manoeuvres that they were trying to bait them into a race, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to dictate the terms of this battle as much as he could. The Decepticons had never been this bold before. Megatron’s plan was either falling apart or coming together, and Optimus couldn't tell which was more likely.

The Decepticons came to a stop a few meters away, their engines rumbling in an obvious attempt to intimidate. Optimus narrowed his optics. It would take more than that to frighten him. He raised his gun-servo at them and aimed, preparing to fire.

“Ugh, I hate standoffs,” Optimus heard, the leader of the pack of cars transforming out of their alt mode, the rest of the pack following their leader’s lead. Optimus groaned internally. Of course, it was Knock-Out. Of course it fragging was. Starscream’s best friend, and the only mech outside of the Autobots who knew he was still alive. Also, the biggest blabbermouth in Cybertronian history. KO grabbed his trident, holstered on his back, and pointed it at the two Autobots. “So boring. I prefer close-quarters combat. Very, close quarters.”

Was....was Knock-Out leering at him? No, he knew that Knock-Out cared deeply for his friend and that he wouldn't do that, even to get a rise out of him. So that meant...he was leering at Smokescreen. Optimus wanted to roll his optics. At least this would be an amusing story for Starscream when he returned. “What do you want, Knock-Out?”

“Do I need a reason to fight you?” Knock-Out said. Optimus stared him down. KO sighed. “Okay, okay. If you pointed a gun at my helm and forced me to give a reason, and you are, I’m here because I hate to lose.”

Lose? As far as he knew Knock-Out hadn’t been involved in any recent skirmishes, and Starscream had allowed him to leave with a relic when last they met. “What are you talking about? As usual, you are not making any sense.” Optimus snapped.

“Why don’t you ask your fresh meat?” The Decepticon medic somehow managed to leer and glare at Smokescreen at the same time. It was almost impressive. No wonder he had gotten along so well with Star. The elite guardsman was silent behind him. “I’m so glad I found you,” KO continued, looking around Optimus’s shoulders to spot Smokescreen. “I approve of your robot mode. How could I not? Your paint job is immaculate in your alt mode.”

Optimus looked at Smokescreen in confusion. The elite guardsman looked like he was deciding if he should panic, run or die of shame. “You are acquainted?

“Acquainted? This little glitch beat me in a winner-takes-all, no holds barred drag race.” Smokescreen audibly winced. “Oh, did your CO not know about that? Would he disapprove of you racing against humans and risking exposing our race to the flesh-bags? You should have thought of that,” KO’s voice dropped an octave, and he reached into his subspace and pulled out the strangest gun Optimus had ever seen, pointing it at both of them, “before you scratched my paint job.”

This, Optimus decided, was the pettiest thing he’d ever seen. And, since falling in love with one of the pettiest mechs in existence, he’d seen a lot of petty things. KO had gone after one of his team for something equally stupid before, but there was a difference between stupid and petty, though there was often a lot of overlap. This would also be an amusing story for Starscream, provided that they survived this. “Put the weapon down, Knock-Out. You are a medic, and the third in command of the Decepticons. This is beneath you.”

“Don’t tell me,” KO ground out, “What is beneath me.” Optimus heard the weapon charge with a sickening whine and threw Smokescreen to the ground, shielding him with his larger frame as a blast of sound destroyed the trees behind them. The top of Optimus’s shoulder padding, the metal rattling and threatening to break off completely as the sonic shot flew past. The resonance blaster, he realized. The sonic weapon formerly stored in the vaults of Iacon. If he remembered correctly, they had a small window before Knock-Out could fire it again.

He got off of Smokescreen and helped him to his pedes. “We need to end this quickly.”

“Pincer manoeuvres?” Smokescreen asked. Optimus nodded. The mechs separated, each moving to a different side of their primary target. KO whistled and the vehicons split evenly into two groups, charging into battle without the savagery of recent memory. Optimus was grateful for this. He was able to fire a few distraction shots past KO’s helm, taking out a couple vehicons in the process. KO tried to swipe at Smokescreen with his trident, but the younger mech jumped out of his reach easily, using a vehicon as a living shield as he fired at KO. Optimus pushed a few vehicons aside and got close enough to KO to grab for the blaster. Knock-Out noticed at the last possible klik and pulled it back, but he was finding it harder and harder to dodge.

“You won’t beat me this time, Autobot,” Knock-Out spit the word like it was poison.

“You sure about that?” Smokescreen taunted. “It wasn’t that much effort to beat you the first time!”

Optimus wanted to scream and switch from fighting the vehicons to accosting Smokescreen, but Knock-Out and his crew were proving to be a bigger challenge than he anticipated. Hopefully, he could end this quickly. While KO was distracted, Optimus managed to get a grip on the blaster, beginning a tense tug-of-war.

“I expected a...different face-plate, I’ll admit,” Knock-Out said, looking around as he tugged on his weapon. “Where’s your...”

“If you finish that sentence I will put a hole in your helm,” Optimus growled. With one final pull, he yanked the blaster from Knock-Out’s servos, leaving him sputtering in confusion and rage. “I mean it. I do not care that you are his friend. There is a reason he is not here.”

“...right,” Knock-Out said, looking embarrassed. “Still,” he said, shifting back into his disturbing leer, trying to catch Smokescreen’s optics, swinging his trident and nailing the Autobot in the tank, “I like your other new one. How does he get along with...”

“We are not having this conversation,” Optimus said, firing a warning shot that sailed straight past KO’s helm, searing and burning a patch of the paint of his audial fins. “Retreat. I have the blaster. It is over.”

“Is it?” Knock-Out did an elaborate spin of his trident, finally bringing it down on Optimus’ helm and activating the current of its taser function. Warning signals flashed in Optimus’ vision. He felt himself stumble backwards. The blaster fell from his servos and hit the ground, but Optimus didn’t notice. His knee-joints were shaking, and every calliper and cable and piston was tightening at once. He hadn’t had a shock for a while. KO must have made sure he’d feel it. He was vaguely aware of Smokescreen yelling for him, trying to encourage him to get up, before he heard the resonance blaster fire and felt the gust as Smokescreen went sailing past him.

Once the warnings were gone and Optimus could stand up straight again, KO and the others were speeding away, still yelling about how he and Smokescreen were going to have a rematch, and that he needed to learn his place or something. When Optimus blinked and cleared his vision, their attackers were gone.

Smokescreen limped back over, a smile on his face-plate. Optimus wasn’t sure how he was managing to do so, since smiling was the opposite of what he felt like doing. “Boss-bot! Optimus!” Smokescreen called as he got closer. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I...”

Optimus turned to Smokescreen, his engines venting, his denta grinding, and his servos clenched into fists so tight he was sure he was going to tear one of his cables. Smokescreen skidded to a stop, looking up at Optimus with confusion. “What was Knock-Out talking about?” Optimus asked, barely containing his anger. “Was he telling the truth? And if you lie...”

“I couldn't lie to you. It wasn’t even that bad, I didn’t even....” Optimus glared at him. Smokescreen rubbed the back of his neck. “He was telling the truth.” Smokescreen said quietly. “I understand--”

“If it had been any member of the team but me, and possibly Bulkhead, they could have been killed by the resonance blaster.” Optimus interrupted him with a raised servo. “You might have been killed, were you by yourself.”

“Yeah, but...” Smokescreen tried to argue, but Optimus knew the look on his face-plate would silence the young mech. Smokescreen met his optics and predictably went silent. After a few moments, he took a deep inhale and tried to speak again. “You’re right, sir. It was irresponsible of me to conduct myself in such a way.”

“You are going to explain everything the second we get back to the base.” Optimus’s tone left no room for argument. Smokescreen looked at his pedes, hanging his head low. He looked contrite, and Optimus was glad for it. He had no pity for Smokescreen’s plight in his spark. He had inadvertently put the team at risk, and that was unacceptable. “Ratchet,” Optimus said, “bridge us back to base. Smokescreen has something he needs to tell the team.”

Smokescreen looked sick, gulping audibly. Optimus ignored him and waited, the bridge opening without Ratchet’s reply. The two mechs walked through the swirling portal with nary a word exchanged between them. There was one thing that Optimus had to applaud about the current situation. Most mechs would try to run, or even beg for mercy, or argue with him. Smokescreen held his head high and walked through the ground bridge, ready to face his judgment. It was almost admirable.

But not enough to quell Optimus’s anger.

#

Optimus was met with four very concerned Cybertronians upon arrival back at Omega Outpost One. Ratchet stayed by the bridge controls, clearly waiting for the clamour to die down. “What happened, boss-bot? You look like you’ve been in a fight, I thought this was a simple mission, and...” Arcee asked, darting around him, followed by Bumblebee. Starscream was trying to push forward to get to his lover, but he was having difficulty getting around Bulkhead. Optimus gave Starscream a piteous smile. They’d have time later.

“Yeah, and your signal was scrambled for a few kliks, and we were worried you got hit real bad, and...” Bulkhead continued, ranting and raving and only just missing Starscream’s helm as he swung his massive arms as he went on.

“It is alright, Arcee. Bulkhead. I am fine. We did encounter Decepticons, but we managed to come out on top.”

“Oh, good.” Bulkhead let out a sigh of relief, finally dropping his arms and allowing Starscream to push through.

He reached for Optimus’s servo but backed away as soon as he saw his expression. “What’s wrong, [beloved and belonged]?” he asked cautiously. “Your face-plate...you look like you’re ready to blow a gasket.”

Optimus glared at Smokescreen, who had been trying to sneak off during the commotion. “Smokescreen!” Optimus barked. The aforementioned mech froze, slowly turning around. “I want you to tell me, and your team, why Knock-Out decided to attack us.”

“Knock-Out attacked you?” Starscream said, blinking at Optimus. “Was he on orders from...”

“No.” Optimus interrupted, “he decided to do so on his own.”

Starscream let out a low growl. “I am SO going to ruin his paint job for this. How dare he! I trusted him, and here he is, trying to go after my [beloved]. If he thought scratching it was bad before, he’s not going to know what hit him.”

“Can I help?” Bulkhead asked. “I still owe him some payback for poking a hole in my aft with his stupid trident.”

“Why not? I vote we dye him blue.”

Though Optimus was angry, he did not want Starscream to feel anger towards his friend. That wasn’t fair. Knock-Out wasn’t the best mech in the universe, but he treated Starscream well. “He did not seem to care that I was there. His target was Smokescreen.”

“Why? He just got here.” Arcee wondered out loud. “What could he have done that pissed him off so much?”

Every helm in the room turned to Smokescreen, waiting for an answer. Smokescreen clammed up, looking like he was facing an army of Decepticons with only a wooden stick for a weapon, but Optimus stared him down, waiting for his new recruit to make the right decision. Despite his anger, he knew Smokescreen could.

“So, I...” Smokescreen shifted from pede to pede, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been sneaking out and drag racing. Against Knock-Out. And, I beat him! But he didn’t take it too well.”

“What?!” Arcee shouted, stomping over to Smokescreen to yell directly into his face-plate. “What in the pit is wrong with you!? You’ve put us all at risk.”

“Hey, I didn’t know he was a D-Con at first! But I didn’t stop when I figured it out, so that’s on me, I guess.”

Even Starscream looked angry. “I told that stupid aft-head to stop that slag after the incident with the bug over here,” Starscream thumbed a digit at Bumblebee, who glared at the nickname, “for this exact reason. That fragging liar. He told me he’d quit!”

Bumblebee let out a long series of clicks, whistles, beeps and chirps. Optimus knew that his scout was explaining what happened when he’d tried to race the medic before. He’d been with Jack, trying to defend the boy’s teenage masculine honour. The difference was that Knock-Out had gone out of his way to attack Bumblebee, and KO had been actually racing Smokescreen in what sounded like a more evenly matched battle of speed. That didn’t make it better.

“You’re a moron,” Bulkhead said, crossing his arms and shaking his helm. “At least you won, though.”

“That’s not the point!” Arcee snapped. “We could all be on a dissection table somewhere, all because slag for CPU here decided he needed some kicks!”

“It gets worse, I fear,” Optimus said, interrupting. He didn’t want the team to pile on Smokescreen too badly. While he’d made a mistake, he didn’t deserve unending scorn. “Knock-Out had the resonance blaster. The Decepticons apparently have been searching for relics. To what end, I do not know. I was not able to interrogate Knock-Out before his escape.”

“The sonic weapon? And you survived?” Ratchet asked in disbelief.

Optimus nodded. “I do not think he wanted to kill us. I think he wanted to send a message. However, were it anyone but the two of the larger-framed soldiers...”

“It might not have gone like that.” Ratchet finished. “Primus. If they have access to the relics of Cybertron...”

“They invented half of them,” Starscream pointed out. “Don’t forget that part. They’re relics of the war back when we still had Cybertron, but they’re still designed to be used by Decepticons. I’m pretty sure Soundwave helped build the resonance blaster. I know they used the power source he designed.”

“Does that mean they should have access to dangerous weapons?” Ratchet retorted.

“Should your side? Should anyone?” Starscream snapped back.

“Be that as it may,” Optimus interrupted, “my concern is this: this complicates our strategy against the Decepticons. We know that there are relics here, and we have for a while. We now know that the relics are here because Alpha Trion sent them here. What we do not know is how much Megatron knows, or which relics are in his possession.”

“Sounds like you had a chance to find out, but hotshot over there blew it,” Arcee said, thumbing at Smokescreen. Bumblebee let out an offended boop. “Sorry, I forgot you had a friend named Hotshot, quit beeping at me. That moron over there blew it.” She looked Bumblebee in the optics. “Happy?” Bee gave her a thumbs up.

“Okay, okay, I know I messed up, but...”

“But that is not how a member of a squad operates.” Optimus finished, looking Smokescreen in the optics, then slowly looking at all the assembled bots. “I know you lack experience, Smokescreen, but when you are on a team, a member of a unit, you do not withhold information that puts your unit at risk. And you do not engage the enemy without permission, or backup.”

“I just wanted to see Earth. I didn’t know a Decepticon would be there.” Smokescreen protested.

“And yet you persisted when that became clear.”

Smokescreen sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Optimus. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have done that, and there is no excuse.”

Optimus could accept that apology. It was the first genuine one, and the first one without any pomp or rationalizing or anything of the sort. Optimus was still angry, but he knew he could regulate it a little bit better through the rest of the conversation he knew the team needed to have. As much as he wanted to adjourn it all, there was a discussion that needed to be had. The ache in his processor was simmering now, threatening to boil over if provoked again. Optimus nodded to the team. “Knowing what we know now,” he said meeting each member’s optics individually, “we have a crucial decision to make.”

“And that decision is what?” Bulkhead asked. “How we’re going to punish Smokescreen?”

“I could use some help in the med bay.” Ratchet contemplated.

Optimus’s fans kicked on, quiet enough that he doubted any of his team could hear it, but still on all the same. He needed to vent this excess heat before he either burned his core out or exploded. Literally and figuratively. “No. I will decide that. I am referring to whether or not we move forward with our current plan of attack or switch focus to obtaining and thereby controlling the relics of Cybertron.”

The team was silent. Blissfully, happily, silent.

Ratchet sighed. “Look, Optimus, it’s not an easy decision to make. I’ll follow whatever you decide, but I think we should prioritize the humans over relics. That’s the Autobot way; freedom for sentient beings over the acquisition of resources and military power.”

“I don’t know, Ratch,” Bulkhead said. “I love the humans, you all know I do, but I also think that the Decepticons having access to those heavy hitters would make protecting them harder. But, I will do whatever you think is best. I know I can deal with cons, no matter what kind of weapons they have. I’m a wrecker, I’ve fought battles with worse odds.”

Bumblebee shrugged in response to the conversation. It seemed that the tension in the room had dissipated and they could actually have a good discussion about their plans to move forward.

Until Smokescreen spoke up.

“The relics were sent here for you to use, Optimus. I think you should have them, not Megatron or any of the ‘cons.”

And the whole pit broke loose.

“Please.” Starscream scoffed. “You’re new here, so you haven’t seen the armoury yet, but Optimus doesn’t need some old piece of technology that fell out of use decades ago. He has what he needs. The whole team has what they need. I say we keep moving forward with the current plan.”

“Who asked you?” Arcee snapped. “You’re not even an Autobot.”

“He might as well be, at this point,” Bulkhead added. Starscream glared at him. “You know I’m right.”

“I’m no Autobot, and I’m no Decepticon,” Starscream growled. “Don’t lump me in with either.”

“Exactly. You’re faction-less and you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arcee retorted.

“So I don’t get an opinion, because I’m not in your stupid club?”

“Oh, so our faction is stupid now?”

“That isn’t even remotely what I said, and you know it! All I’m trying to do is consider what's best for the people of this planet...”

“Who you didn’t even care about until a few quartexes ago.”

“Does that matter? Am I not allowed to look out for them because of that?” Starscream growled. “I know Megatron. I know better than any of you what he’s capable of, so trust me when I say that if he has shown an interest in this planet’s people they will die if we don’t stop him.”

“Can’t we use the relics to do that?” Smokescreen piped up. “They’re here for that purpose. Alpha Trion--”

“And about that.” Starscream rounded on Smokescreen. “My squadron searched the entire pit-damned planet for those things, for what felt like cycles, and the very important old fart in his precious hall couldn't bother to mention that they were gone? Or in his vaults? We could have used that time looking for energon, something bots actually need, or Xal forbid, something else that was actually productive?!”

“Hey, Alpha Trion has his reasons, and he knows more about the relics than you do!”

“His methods wound up with Knock-Out having access to a sonic weapon. I don’t have much stock in them.”

“And why should they be for Optimus’s use only?” Arcee came back into the conversation. “We’re all fighting the good fight, I say we share them.”

“Alpha Trion was very clear that...”

“I don’t give a slag what he thinks, he isn’t here, and we are! Optimus, back me up.” Optimus opened his intake to speak, but Arcee went right back into ranting. “You may be elite guard trained, but you haven’t seen combat yet, so you don’t get to lecture me about slag all, hear me!? Half the damn problem that started the war was the elite’s refusal to do anything, and Alpha Trion launching weapons into space was a blatant refusal to do anything!”

“Don’t talk about him like that! Big A had a plan, you’re just not smart enough to understand it.”

Arcee tried to punch Smokescreen, missing and almost hitting Starscream. Starscream dodged and activated his null rays, pointing them at the two Autobots. “Cool your damn jets, or I will take you both out."

Optimus noticed that Ratchet and Bee were slowly backing out of the room, which was probably a good idea, one that he could not put into action at this time. Bulkhead was hanging back, staying out of the argument, watching the exchange and shaking his helm.

“Hey, I’m just saying what I was told...” Smokescreen protested.

“Oh, now you want to do what you’re told!” Arcee retorted.

“It doesn’t matter, because we have bigger problems.” Starscream rolled his optics. 

“Yeah, a potential spy among our ranks!” Arcee snapped.

“Are we really back to that?”

“Then why don’t you want us to have the relics?”

“I never said that, would you both stop putting words in my damn mouth, or I swear to Xal I will shoot you!”

“And I thought I was trigger happy.” Smokescreen scoffed.

Optimus could feel a line pulsing behind his optics. Arcee was small, but Primus damn it all, could her voice carry. And what was worse was that she was arguing with Starscream and Smokescreen at the same time, who also had distinct, loud voices—Star’s, in particular, was screechy and raspy, and it was starting to grate on Optimus’s nerves. He knew the seeker was mad at KO and that’s why he was practically screaming at the other two Autobots, but KO wasn’t here and Optimus was getting tired of listening to the three of them go back and forth.

“All of you,” he boomed out, anger edging his voice, “Stop. Talking. Now.”

They instantly shut up, though Starscream let out one final indignant squawk. Ratchet and Bee stopped as well and walked back in, eager to listen to the decision that Optimus had made. Being Optimus Prime had it’s perks, though apparently maintaining group cohesion was not one of them.

“I am your commander. While I will listen to my squad and take their thoughts into consideration, I am the last word on what we do. And I have decided that the threat to the humans is too great to proactively look for the relics of Cybertron. We will react to the Decepticon forces attempting to retrieve them, but the team will focus on stopping the threat to the human population. Am. I. Clear.”

Most bots would not argue that. Arcee was not most bots. “What?” she interjected. “Are you serious?”

Optimus wanted to shout in her face-plate and tell her to do laps, but he was no drill sergeant. His solar-cycle was going downhill quickly, and he was starting to lose it. Between Smokescreen’s indiscretions, his own anxiety about Alpha Trion, and now Arcee’s attitude, he was ready to either punch something or get intoxicated. To prevent himself from exploding, he opened his back vents all the way and started actively venting the steam building up in his frame. “Yes, I am. We need to focus on the plans the Decepticons have for the humans, and on their new source of dark energon. We know that they are using it to hurt humans. As long as they have access to that resource, they will continue to be a threat. As it is what we believe the Decepticons sought when they took over Iacon and breached the hall of records, we should focus our efforts on that.”

“Yeah, but they could just as easily been after the relics. Starscream hasn’t been with the Decepticons for a while—no offence,” Arcee said, looking over at Starscream.

The seeker shrugged. “Why would I be offended? I’m glad that I’m not with those morons anymore. Even if it means that my intel is a bit out of date.”

“Yeah, exactly. He’s said a few times that Megatron was leaving him out of his plans, and we don’t know if Megatron’s priority is the relics or the dark energon.”

“True, we do not know his priorities, but that does not matter. _Our_ priority is always protecting the freedom of all sentient beings.” It was half the Autobot code. It was their way. He was sick of arguing it. Optimus looked down at Arcee. Her frame was tense and her servos were shaking. Optimus knew she was angry, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Surely, given Arcee’s relationship with young Jack, she’d understand why the humans had to come first? “The humans have to be the most important thing we consider. We cannot allow harm to come to them, and we cannot allow our war to affect the course of their history.”

“The humans are my priority! If Megatron gets the relics, we’ll be at a disadvantage, and we won’t be able to help the humans.” Arcee glared at him. “They’re a few steps ahead right now. If we can get the relics, we can even the odds.”

“Yeah, and while we look for those, Megatron gets bolder, and keeps messing with the humans.” Bulkhead interrupted. “Look, Arcee. I get where you’re coming from, and I think we should try to get the relics too, but there’s no right answer. We should listen to boss-bot. He’s got more experience than all of us in the room combined.”

Arcee growled at Bulkhead. Optimus sighed. This was going nowhere, and he could tell that another argument was brewing. His processor couldn’t take it. “That is enough, soldiers. I am your commanding officer, and I have made my decision. If I have to tell you again, you are all going to regret it.”

“You’ve never had to pull that before,” Arcee scoffed.

“I have never had to argue with my soldiers before,” Optimus said, crossing his arms. He looked at Smokescreen and Bumblebee. “Any more objections I should be aware of?”

Bumblebee beeped a bit and shrugged, then saluted. Optimus understood that meant that Bee wasn’t sure, but he would follow his commander. Smokescreen also saluted. “You’re Optimus Prime, sir. I’ll follow you in whatever you decide.”

Well, Optimus supposed, that devotion came in handy sometimes.

Finally, he looked at Ratchet and Starscream. Ratchet sighed. “I don’t want to see innocent beings get hurt. I don’t want to see any beings get hurt, period. That’s why I became a medic. If you want to focus on helping the humans, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Starscream smiled lovingly at Optimus. “You’re my spark, my love, my [beloved and belonged]. I’ll argue with you if I don’t like it, but at the end of the solar-cycle, I will follow you. Always.”

Smokescreen looked at Starscream. “That was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Starscream beamed.

Arcee crossed her arms. Optimus gave her a look. “Do you have more to say, officer?”

“I think we’re being short-sighted. But you’re the boss, boss-bo...Optimus.” Arcee grumbled. Optimus knew that wouldn't be the end of it.

Not by a long shot.

Starscream could hear enraged grunting and the clanging of metal hitting rubber all the way down the long hallway that led to the Autobot training room, echoing through the basement of Omega Outpost One, punctuated by the occasional growl. It was almost amusing, but Starscream still had to turn on the anti-anxiety algorithm he’d been coding through his therapy modules. Rationally, he knew Optimus would not take his anger out on him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried, that the thought wasn’t in the back of his processor, that he couldn't already feel a fist meeting his face-plate. He took a stuttering intake and paused, wiggling his wings and attempting to regulate his breathing. He’d been sent to the training room by Ratchet to check on Optimus, and he knew he was the best bot for the job. No one had seen him since Optimus since he stormed out of the ‘living room’ after his argument with Arcee. He’d said he was going to cool down, but that was groons ago. He had to be cooled down by now, right? And if he wasn’t...well, Starscream could help with that. He could get it together, and he could be what the team needed him to be. With renewed purpose, he walked confidently into the training room and opened the door.

The first thing Starscream noticed were the holes in the wall that were still smoking. Optimus was halfway to destroying a punching bag hanging from the ceiling and had already dented one of the support bars holding the massive weight-lifting apparatus in the corner up. Starscream wondered if Optimus had tried the pit-damned punch-back bag first. Optimus hadn’t looked up when Starscream walked in, and the room was so full of steam that Starscream nearly tripped over a barbell on the floor as he tried to get to his love. The obscuring of his vision just made the whole thing even more surreal. He wasn’t used to seeing Optimus in such a state. He’d seen the mech angry, yes, but not angry enough to avoid his entire multi-coloured squad of goodie-goodies, and not enough to need to physically vent his aggression. Starscream knew his pedesteps were echoing through the room, but Optimus hadn’t acknowledged him yet. Well. That just wouldn't do.

Starscream decided against tapping Optimus on the shoulder and walked around his side to stand well within the range of Optimus’s vision, but out of range of the flailing punching bag. “A credit for your thoughts?” he said sweetly, standing with one servo on his hip joint in what he hoped was a distracting and alluring pose.

Optimus paused, panting, but couldn’t manage a smile for his partner. “Hello, Starscream.”

“Hello to you took, grumpy-grills.” Starscream teased. “Still mad?” Optimus gave Starscream a glare that could peel paint. Starscream rolled his optics, trying to hide how uncomfortable that made him. Optimus wasn’t mad at him, he reminded himself. He eased his processor once more. “Can you at least try to talk to me?”

Optimus sighed. “I apologize. I did not want to burden you with my problems. Especially when you appeared to have some of your own.”

Starscream chuckled. “If by that you mean my anger at KO...my friendship with Knock-Out was based on constantly being annoyed at each other. I can deal with it. I get the feeling you’re not used to being upset at your team.”

“No,” Optimus admitted, “I am not.”

“That’s a good thing, really. It shows that you’ve built a good team built on camaraderie and loyalty and all that other Autobot crap.” Starscream said, starting to pace around in front of Optimus. Optimus snickered to himself, going back to the punching bag, albeit gently hitting it instead of full-on striking it. “I’m going to assume you’ve never had to deal with, say, a second in command trying to usurp you.”

“I have never struck my second in command in anger, nor at all outside of training, so no, I do not see why Jazz would ever want to usurp me.”

“I’m also assuming that you haven’t had to deal with your subordinates blatantly disobeying your orders and hiding it.”

“Something I assume you have experience with.” Optimus deadpanned.

“Would you follow all of Megatron’s orders?”

“I was referring to your time commanding the seekers."

“Well, I had Sunstorm on my team, and TC and Warp were close enough to me that they knew how to hide things. Or they thought they were.” Starscream paused in his pacing and turned back to his partner. “What I’m saying is, while this is annoying and it feels insulting, it’s not the end of the universe.”

“I have two of my soldiers upset. One because they were caught doing something stupid and dangerous, and the other because they do not feel listened to. Megatron’s threats to the humans, and his obsession with dark energon, weigh heavily on my processor.” Ah, there was the rub. Optimus wasn’t used to insurrection or discontent, but he was even less used to being helpless. That was why he was down here beating the pit out of a punching bag rather than relaxing in a more conventional way. “I do not know what to do.”

“You’ve done what you can. You are the commander. You have the last say. That’s why there is a chain of command and armies don’t just run around...voting on things.” Starscream gestured as if he was waving away the stench of voting. Ugh. How utterly horrible. He had nothing against voting, but he pictured trying to organize his squadron to vote. It would have been a disaster. “You’ll have to discipline Smokescreen for being an afthead, and Arcee will just...go what she does. She admires you, anyone with functional optics can see it. You’ll all be back to being a happy little family in no time.”

Optimus sighed. “I know that. But it does not help me right now. I am trying to focus on the future, but I am stuck in the present. And in the present, I am very upset.”

“I know.” Starscream sighed. “What do you think we should do?”

“We?”

“I’m your [beloved and belonged]. We’re in this together. I mean, you could stay down here and hit the punching bag all night, but I’m not willing to recharge alone.”

“It will not be all night. Only for part of it, until I am less upset.” Optimus said, trying to reassure him.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. If he hadn’t calmed down on his own already, Optimus wasn’t going to calm down at all. Starscream got a very, very good idea. If it worked. He moved behind Optimus, running his claws across Optimus’s shoulders.

“My poor, sweet, Optimus.” Starscream purred. Optimus shuddered. “It sounds like you need to relax.”

“Perhaps.” Optimus’s voice was husky already, servos tense where they gripped the punching bag. “What are you thinking?”

Starscream stepped before Optimus and slipped between him and the bag, tilting his helm back to bare his neck. He reached out and linked his digits behind Optimus’s helm, pulling Optimus towards him, and raising one leg to rest on Optimus’s hip joint. “Let me relieve it for you.” Optimus’s optics were wide as Starscream nudged his legs apart, a low growl rumbling from within Starscream’s throat. He smirked at Optimus as another blast of steam filled the room. “Look at that. I haven’t even told you what I’m going to do to you yet.”

“And what is your plan, Commander Starscream?” Optimus asked, finally leaning forward and mouthing at the cables in his lover’s neck.

“I’m trying to decide between pushing you to the floor and riding you, or sucking your spike until you overload down my throat, or I could spike you. What do you feel like?”

Optimus let out a low groan. “Right here? In the training room?”

“We’ll clean up afterwards. Or we can make...” Starscream thought better of using specific names, “some of the bots who have drawn our ire recently clean it up. I don’t care. You need it, clearly, and I want to give it to you. So. What do you want me to do?”

Optimus bit a cable in Starscream’s neck, the seeker’s seductive mannerisms faltering as pleasure shot through him. “I want to watch you ride my spike while you work your own. Can you make that happen?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Starscream pushed Optimus’s chassis back. A flicker of nervousness went through him, causing his claws to skitter across the expansive of metal across his lover’s front. He flashed back to the last time they’d tried to interface, after their date. While that was a few cyberweeks ago, Starscream feared that he wouldn't be able to perform. Again. He knew Optimus wouldn't ignore that and push him further than he was comfortable with, but what if Optimus became more upset? What if that just made things worse? And, Starscream thought selfishly, what if he didn’t get to dissipate the charge building in his frame, the one that had been building since walking into the gym and hearing his lover’s almost obscene grunting?

Optimus slowly started to sink to the floor, his servos finding Starscream’s to pull him down with him. Starscream followed, as always, until he was straddling Optimus on the floor of the training room. The door wasn’t locked. Starscream wasn’t sure that it could lock, honestly, and he didn’t want to get up to check. The idea that any of the menagerie of the Omega Outpost One team could walk in should have been a turn-off, it just made the charge in Starscream’s system stronger, a pulse beating in his audials, his own fans now kicking on. It wasn’t that he wanted any of the team to see him like that, nor Optimus. Optimus in the throes of passion was too lovely, and those expressions were his and his alone. That would definitely shatter his rapport with the squad and he didn’t need to set all the progress he’d made back, but it made the whole thing forbidden, and raunchy, and raw. Optimus bent his knee-joints, giving Starscream something to rest on as he got comfortable, wiggling his hip-joints until he found a good position. Some of his inner callipers hurt, but it was nothing too painful, nothing he couldn't deal with. In fact, Starscream was sure that there wasn’t a single flicker of pain on his face-plate. He started to purr again, leaning forward to kiss Optimus deeply, their glossas meeting in a sloppy wet dance.

“Are you sure that your body is up for this?” Optimus asked quietly. “I do not want to...”

“I’m sure,” Starscream said. It was only half a lie. He wasn’t sure of anything other than that he needed Optimus inside of him. He nuzzled into Optimus’s neck and nipped at the cables, walking himself back up and perching himself atop Optimus’s reproductive panel. The metal was warm against his, not hot, but that wasn’t a surprise. Optimus’s whole frame was warm against his, a combination of anger, exertion and lust making every metal piece of Optimus’s frame radiate heat. It felt good. Starscream decided that he was going to be a little bit cruel to his lover today. He retracted his spike panel first, letting the organ depressurize before Optimus’s wide optics. Starscream hissed as his spike reached it’s full length. Depressurizing the thing was almost painful but it felt so utterly good, as it was starting to ache within its housing. Starscream reached down and grasped it roughly, finding it already wet and dripping. He looked down to see a few drops of transfluid already on Optimus’s flank. A glance up showed Optimus looking at him, his bright blue optics wide, focused intently on the spike before him. Starscream smirked and started moving his servo up and down, the transfluid already leaking providing excellent lubrication, making the slide divine. Optimus’s breath hitched as he watched, the servo at his side slowly reaching forwards, seeking to touch...

“No,” Starscream said breathlessly. “You wanted me to work my own spike. Are you going back on your word?”

Optimus groaned. “I said I wanted you to do so while my spike was inside you.”

“Too bad.” Starscream ran his claws down Optimus’s chassis, scratching him up as a warning. “I’m doing this my way, and you’re going to sit back and watch me work.” Starscream swiped his thumb digit over the head of his spike, a deep groan scratching its way out of his vocoder. He wasn’t going to be cruel for long. He could feel his valve drip and twitch inside his reproductive panel. He’d overload before they even started at this rate.

“What if I beg?” Optimus pleaded, his servo coming to grip Starscream’s hip tightly, desperately.

Starscream paused. “What?”

Optimus launched right in. “Please Star, I need you. I need to feel your valve around me, no one else makes me feel as good as you do. If I cannot have you I will surely fry my own processor. You are amazing, your valve is amazing, please let me feel it...”

Starscream tightened his fist around his spike, trying to keep himself from overloading too early. Optimus Prime, the Optimus Prime, was begging for him. Begging for his valve. Beyond the love he had for Optimus as a sentient being, the power of the position was doing fantastic things to his quivering valve and the charge threatening to fry his sensors. “Okay, okay! Sweet Xal. You don’t have to...”

“I am pleased that I got the response I wanted, either way.” Optimus’s panel opening below Starscream. Starscream felt his lover’s spike beneath him and rocked forward to let the whole massive thing depressurize. That was a worthy excuse to kiss Optimus again. The kiss was surprisingly chaste given the spike pressing against his back, but neither made any moves to deepen it. This was perfect, just as it was.

Finally, Starscream leaned back, making full, unblinking optic contact with Optimus. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” Optimus asked gently.

Starscream nodded, his knee joints protesting as he lifted himself to hover over Optimus’s spike. “I need you.” He took a deep intake, steeled himself, and slowly sank down.

It was heavenly. Yes, it hurt, but not in a way that distracted him from his pleasure. It was a dull ache as Optimus’s spike spread him open, pressing on all his nodes, every sensor firing at maximum sensitivity. Starscream let out a broken wail. He felt incredible. Optimus was leaving dents on his hips with his servos and on the floor of the training room with his pedes, more and more steam filling the room. Starscream almost couldn't see his partner for the haze, but he didn’t care. Once he was fully seated, he looked at Optimus. His lover’s wide bright blue optics were glowing, his intake open and wet glossa hanging out, and they were just getting started. “Good?”

“Good,” Optimus nodded. “Very good. Touch your spike for me, my love.”

“So needy,” Starscream teased, but did as he was told. He could feel his whole frame clench, the callipers around Optimus’s spike squeezing tight, impossibly tight, and he wasn’t sure how Optimus wasn’t in pain himself. He started to lift himself off, just by an inch or two, and coming back down. He didn’t want Optimus to pull all the way out. It felt good, surreal almost, to have Optimus inside him while his spike was stimulated, but he wasn’t complaining.

Not by a long shot. It was sublime and perfect.

Starscream was leaking transfluid and lubricant everywhere, and he could smell ozone and exhaust in the air around them. Optimus below him was flushed bright orange, a thin trail of digestive fluid running from the current of his intake, his hips canting upwards every so often. The charge building in him was shorting out his vision, and he was slamming himself up and down with such force it was starting to hurt his back, knee-joints and hips. His valve wasn’t sore anymore, not even in the painful-pleasurable way it usually was, and he was squeezing so tight around Optimus’s spike that he was surprised the damn thing was still attached.

“So tight,” Optimus panted, clamping down on Starscream’s hips. “So wet. Your spike is...enchanting. The biolights are hypnotic.”

Starscream tried to respond, but all he let out was a broken whine. His pace was becoming erratic, but he was worried that Optimus wasn’t close yet. He was struggling to muster up enough coherent thought to figure out something to do or say to get Optimus as close as he was. He supposed he could let go of his spike and just focus on slamming up and down with reckless abandon, but Optimus was enjoying the show, and he couldn’t stop that either, he wasn’t used to his own servo anymore and it felt so, so good...he was rapidly reaching the point of no return, where if the charge stayed in him he’d fry his circuits, but he was perfectly okay with offlining just like this, looking into the optics of his love and clenching down around him. He was going to overload, and there wasn’t much that could be done to stop it.

Optimus seemed to sense it. He was an observant lover, and Starscream knew he couldn’t miss the tell-tale rippling and fluttering of the valve he was buried in. Optimus reached a shaking servo up to caress Starscream’s face-plate. “Let go, my love. I want to see you. I need to see you overload.”

Well, Starscream did like to please.

He threw his helm back, his servo speeding up, his hips slamming up and down, clanging together and making so much noise, but Starscream could hardly hear it over the sound of static in his audials as his overload tore through him, his valve just lighting up with sensation as it squeezed Optimus’s spike for all it was worth and his spike spurting fluid all over both of them. Optimus growled and pushed himself up, grabbed his lover’s hips, and started thrusting in and out wildly, chasing his own overload. Starscream whined and held on for dear life, the over-stimulation riding the line between too much and not enough. After a few sharp thrusts, Optimus emptied inside him, biting into Starscream’s neck cables hard enough to dent.

They sat there, panting, coming down from their mutual high. Finally, Optimus lifted Starscream, still limp and twitching, off his spike, laying back and pulling Starscream on top of him. Starscream noted with amusement that even after this very taboo act of having loud, literally steamy interfacing in the team’s shared training room, Optimus still wanted to cuddle. “Shouldn’t we do this in our quarters?” Starscream asked breathlessly.

Optimus grunted. “Let me enjoy this moment.”

Starscream let out a small harrumph and relaxed into the cuddle. “Do you feel any better?”

“A little less angry, perhaps,” Optimus said, sighing. “We will have to wait and see what happens with our mission, but for now I am content. A job well done on your part.”

Starscream beamed, allowing his intake cycles to sync with Optimus as they lay together on the floor. It was oddly...romantic, despite it all. The weight of Optimus’s servos on his frame was soothing. His pleasure sensors were at a low level. The steam was starting to dissipate, and the puddle of fluid beneath them was beginning to cool. Starscream knew that his inner thighs were splashed and covered in trans-fluid and lubricant, and he’d have to use the wash-racks when they were done, but it was worth it, just to see the small smile of happiness on Optimus’s face-plate.

Slowly, but surely, the moment passed. Starscream’s joints started to protest laying on a floor, and Optimus was less still and content and tenser from trying not to move. Starscream slowly sat up and climbed off his beloved, offering a servo to help the Prime stand up.

Optimus looked at the puddle. “I suppose I will have to clean that up.”

Starscream shook his helm. “Don’t worry about it. I think I might train a bit since apparently, my frame can handle vigorous activity again.” He winked at Optimus, prompting a small chuckle. “Go and relax in our quarters. Have some of the secret stash of high grade I pretend that I don’t know about. I’ll join you when I’m done.”

Optimus glared Starscream down. “And how do you know about the secret supply?”

Starscream smirked. “You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.”

“Hmm.” Optimus hummed. “Well, I was going to put in a token effort to help you, but now I think I will just go back to our quarters. I’ll see you soon, [belonging and beloved].”

Starscream waved him off, looking for something that he could clean with. “See you later, sweet spark.”

#

Starscream shook himself off as he exited the wash-racks, taking great joy in drying himself off with Smokescreen’s favourite towel and tossing it in the laundry bin. He’d used Arcee’s favourite towel to clean up his...previous mess, so he felt like he’d managed to subtly vindicate Optimus. He was tired and sore but in the best way possible. It felt good to start exercising again. He didn’t want to be an exhausted wreck the next time he faced his former faction in battle, or if he wanted to get back into...more vigorous interfacing. He had no regrets, but all the pain sensors in his entire frame were activated at once. His cables and pistons ached from the strain, but he knew that once the nanites in his lines finished rebuilding them they’d be stronger, and then stronger the next time, and the next. So, Starscream was in pain, tired, and he was only half sure he didn’t rip out one of the last remaining internal stitches, but he was ready to go back and do it all again tomorrow.

He wondered when he’d started caring about what other mechs thought, be it his former friends or his former enemies. Logically, the team had already seen him at his very worst, so he shouldn’t feel shame before them, but he did. The processor, the whole damn CPU, was much less logical than most Cybertronians thought they were. He burned with embarrassment as he thought about how weak he was compared to team prime. Their training had only highlighted this. It wasn’t his fault he was forged a seeker. He didn’t have the raw strength they did, being ground forms, but he was still a great fighter. He knew the other mechs thought so, but he was still smarting from it all, from the humiliation of almost dying, to the humiliation of needing medical attention after a battle he’d won, and the humiliation of them knowing, of someone finally _knowing_ what Megatron did to him. It was bringing back some issues he’d never dealt with, and he still refused to. He couldn't help how he was sparked. He wouldn't be made to feel weak because of it.

He supposed the propaganda of the council got to him more than he’d thought. It was no wonder he’d joined the Decepticons, along with so many other flyers. Honestly, what did they expect to happen? That Cybertronians would just roll over and be told they were nothing? That they’d be able to continue to rule with iron fists, and to the pit with everybody else? They were just as to blame for the fall of Cybertron as Megatron, and wasn’t that a sobering thought.

Starscream took a look around the training room, making sure he’d wiped everything down for the next users, as Bulkhead was very, VERY insistent they do. The floor...well, there was still a thin sheen from not getting to the fluids right away, but you had to look to see it. It would be fine, he told himself, no one would even think to look there. Besides, he’d done a good enough job with the rest of the training room that no one would notice the one stain on the floor. Sure enough, the weights gleamed and the treadmill shone. Still, he was too wired and full of energy to recharge. All he’d do would be keeping Optimus up with his reading, or his shifting, or his relentless pestering...and Optimus didn’t need that, not today.

Starscream supposed he could start another round of training, but that ran the risk of over-taxing his recovering frame. He supposed he could go see if Ratchet was up because the mech had the philosophy of “I’ll sleep when I’m dead and not a moment sooner”, but he didn’t want to bother the medic. He had mentioned an ‘important project’ and Starscream didn’t want to interfere. Starscream grumbled to himself. He supposed he could watch TV, or play one of the games the human children left at the base. His pride was still smarting from being thoroughly trampled by Bumblebee decimating him at that blasted Soul Caliber game. If he were, say, to get in some groons of playing by himself, practicing the timing of his special attacks and blocks, finally learning all the button combinations...

He could just see Bumblebee’s perplexed expression as Starscream beat him, his shock as he wondered how Starscream could have gotten so good, so skilled, regretting every time he’d mocked Starscream for his losses....yes, that was sweet. Delicious, even. Starscream chuckled to himself and went upstairs, sneaking as quietly as possible. Just because he was willing to put in the work to beat his foe didn’t mean anyone else had to know it.

#

Starscream was absorbed. He was in the zone. He had never concentrated on anything so hard in his long life, including his university exams. The tutorial was already up to hard, and he was dominating. He was making this poor unfortunate brooding bastard suffer. This one-eyed punk had nothing on the power of his fearsome battle axe. He was getting more and more excited as he had Groh right at the edge of the map, preparing to finally, FINALLY execute the perfect ring out...

Starscream heard something behind him. He paused the game and set the controller down slowly, his entire system gearing up to fight. No one was going to hurt him, he repeated in his processor. The sounds were far away. It was probably someone walking through the hall behind him, not someone preparing to blow his CPU out or pull him out of the room to some closet to force themselves inside him. It was nothing. It was...

The sounds got closer. Starscream shuffled to the other end of the couch, watching the door carefully. He knew someone was out there. That was clear now; the sounds were too close and coming closer. He activated his nullrays out of habit but kept them on a low setting. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but if he was attacked he would defend himself.

A shadowy figure appeared at the door. Starscream raised his arm, shakily, over the edge of the couch, aiming at the mystery Autobot. He tried to get a good look, but it seemed like they were slinking through the shadows. That eliminated Bulkhead, so it was Bee, Arcee or...not, no way it was Smokescreen. The elite guardsmen couldn’t sneak if his life depended on it, and he was probably still hiding in his quarters. It was one of the two scouts. Starscream deactivated his null rays, leaned forward, and turned off the TV. If it was, in fact, Bumblebee, he didn’t want him to see how hard he was working to finally beat him. He wanted it to be a surprise so he could rub it in the other bot’s face-plate.

He wondered if, perhaps, the Autobot couldn’t see him. “Hello?” He called out into the darkness. “Is someone there?”

There was stillness, and then Arcee stepped forward. “What are you doing in here?” She asked. She glanced over at the TV. “Playing video games. Makes sense. You really do hate to lose, almost as much as KO.”

“How did you...”

“You turned the TV off, but you left the console on.” Starscream’s helm whipped forward. Blast. She was right.

Starscream crossed his arms. “That doesn’t answer what you’re doing in here, sneaking around like a third-rate ninjabot.” He retorted. “If you’re trying to attack me again, just know that I have null-rays, and I’m not afraid to use them. And I will, without a damned doubt, draw a moustache on you with one of the children’s markers while you’re in stasis.” Starscream smirked. Arcee looked genuinely guilty, and Starscream immediately felt bad. He supposed that no everyone had his same defence mechanisms, and Arcee’s wasn’t sarcasm (she did that just fine the rest of the time), it was bluntness and aggression. He decided to dial back. “Look, I don’t care what you’re doing here. It’s probably none of my business--”

“It isn’t,” Arcee snapped.

“Oh, now I know it is,” Starscream smirked. “But...it’s obviously a sticking point, so I’ll let it go. Just don’t tell anyone I was up late practising my gaming skills, alright?”

Arcee burst into laughter. “What the...you’re not with Optimus, your conjux endura...”

“He’s not my conjux endura!” Starscream interrupted.

“...because you’re in here, trying to beat Bumblebee at video games.” She leaned forward, attempting to regulate her intakes. “Oh, sweet Primus. You know he’s a few millennia younger than you, right?”

“Exactly why I can’t let this humiliation stand.” Starscream huffed. “If it got out I was losing daily to a tiny, sparkling Autobot,” he snarled, “I’d lose the small bit of reputation I have left.”

Arcee finally seemed to steady herself. “You really do hate to lose.”

“Clearly not. I used to be a Decepticon, I’m well used to it. I just hate losing at Soul Caliber.”

Arcee regarded Starscream carefully. He tried not to pout, smarting a little at her laughter and carrying on. “You’re...you’re a mess, Screamer.”

“And proud of it,” Starscream said happily. “Still doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here, though. In the middle of the night too. Hmm. How curious. Sounds like you’re about to do something my dearest Optimus wouldn’t approve of. If you head back to bed, I’ll keep this quiet.”

Arcee sighed. “No can do, Screamer.” She looked into the distance, sadness on her face-plate. “I have...unfinished business.”

Starscream quirked a brow-ridge. “I see. And none of your friends are here, because...”

Arcee glared him down. “You’re not going to let this go, are you. Even though you said you would.”

“That’s not fair. I’m not the one acting like I have something to hide. Besides, you’ve excited my scientific curiosity. A loyal soldier, alone, sneaking around the only room with a ground-bridge generator, mere groons after having a blow-up with their commanding officer....how intriguing.” He started to pace. “Should I take a guess? I have a few theories.”

“Stop wasting my time, con.” Arcee snapped. Starscream stopped and his expression darkened. Arcee, to her credit, did not back down. “I’m on a mission. My own mission.”

“Is it about the relics?” Starscream guessed. He already knew the answer, of course. He was, as any good scientist would, testing a hypothesis. Would Arcee tell him the truth, or would she lie to his face-plate? Was there some sort of standard deviation where he was wrong? Arcee went quiet. “I knew it.”

“You don’t know anything,” Arcee snapped. “You’re just...”

“Your friend.” Starscream interrupted. “Do you think I’d bother talking to you about...whatever it is you’re doing if I didn’t care that you’re likely about to go charging off into the night, without back-up or without telling anyone where you’re going?”

“I...” Arcee looked at the ground. “I didn’t know you gave a slag.”

“Of course I do! I’ve been trying to prove to you that you can trust me. If I didn’t care, why would I bother?”

Arcee sighed. “Yeah. It’s about the relics.”

“You want to go looking for them, keep them out of Decepticon servos,” Starscream said, watching Arcee for her reactions. “Am I wrong?”

“No.” Arcee met his optics. “I think Optimus is being short-sighted. What good does it do if we try to stop Megatron and he has access to weapons that could kill Primus himself?”

“I don’t know if any of them are that powerful, but I think a two-pronged approach is usually better.”

“I was surprised that you didn’t say anything earlier about that. I thought you’d be all in for seeking again.”

“I am. I trained for most of my life to be a seeker. But, even though we were known mainly for seeking energon, we sought the relics at the same time.” Starscream sighed, a memory forcing its way forward through the mess of code that was his CPU. “I used to give TC and Warp so much slag for not reading more of the old tomes and giving up on the relics easily. They thought the relics were off-planet, and I never believed them.”

“I know what that feels like,” Arcee said quietly.

Starscream looked at her, trying to make out her motivations. Arcee was loyal. He’d never expected this from her. He realized he didn’t know all that much about her. Was she a labourer back at home? A page? He wasn’t sure what options there were for femmes outside of Vos, which he always thought was a little more balanced. He wondered if she had something in her past, something beyond losing two of her partners, that was driving her. “What it feels like not to be listened to?”

Arcee nodded. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’re a femme in a mech’s profession. There aren’t many femmes out there, to begin with, and they tend to be ignored and talked over. I don’t know what that feels like, you’re right. But seekers and flyers weren’t treated well by the same machine either. It can be hard, to be different.”

Arcee met his optics. “Yeah, you’re...you’re right.”

“But I can’t figure out how the relics would help,” Starscream said. “I’ve been thinking and thinking as we’ve been talking, and I can’t figure it out.”

Arcee bit her lip. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh.” Starscream looked away, his shoulders falling. “I see.”

“It’s not...” Arcee groaned. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I mean, I don’t, not entirely, but this isn’t about that. It’s that I know you’re loyal to Optimus above anything else.”

“You have complaints about your leader and you don’t want to talk to his lover about it. That makes perfect sense. Optimus shuts me down when I complain about your team.” Starscream laughed, moving to lean against the wall nearest Arcee. “But I’m not Optimus. I understand the difference between honest criticism and plain bitterness.”

Arcee looked away. “Optimus is a good mech. He sees everyone as his equal and sees the good in everyone. It’s easy for him to do that. He’s always been a big strong mech, even before he was a soldier. Optimus doesn’t understand what it’s like to be powerless. In my processor, it seems like he doesn’t care about the relics because he’s naturally built to fight. He’s onboarded with weapons the rest of us can only dream of. He’ll be fine with or without the relics. But for the rest of us...if Megatron had even a slightly bigger gun, it would mean trouble for all of us.”

“I see it. You think Optimus is, for lack of a better word, naive.”

Arcee nodded. “I guess so, yeah.”

Starscream laughed to himself. “That’s...not entirely inaccurate. I think Optimus has a rose-coloured disposition. I mean, his name is basically “optimism”. Sometimes I think he misses things. He’s a big picture mech, and he occasionally misses the details.”

“Yeah, like that the relics will give the Decepticons an advantage we can’t afford to let them have.”

Starscream nodded. “I’m still going to follow Optimus, no matter what, but I don’t disagree.”

Arcee watched Starscream closely for a few moments. “Are you going to tell Optimus?”

Starscream quirked a brow-ridge and rubbed his chin. “Do you think I should?”

“Does what I think matter?”

“Why would I ask if it didn’t?”

Arcee scoffed. “Yeah, right. I know you’re loyal to Optimus. It’s one of your only good qualities.” Starscream responded with a rude servo gesture. “I doubt you’ll keep this from Optimus for long. I want to know when I should expect my lecture or a court-martial.”

“He won’t court-martial you, I know that for a fact.” Starscream sighed, taking his place on the couch once more. “If he asks me, I won’t be able to lie to him. Not only is it something I’m actively trying not to do, but he can also tell when I’m lying. It’s rather irritating.” Starscream recalled an argument they’d had a few solar-cycles ago over leaving water all over the wash-racks floor and Starscream lying about using Optimus’s towel to clean up his mess. It ended with Starscream, on his servos and knee-joints mopping up water, attempting to seduce a stoic and stubborn Optimus and ultimately cleaning the whole wash-rack and half their quarters for trying to get out of it. His knee-joints were still sore if he moved them the wrong way. “But, if he doesn’t ask me, I won’t tell him.”

“You’d lie by omission?”

“It won’t be an omission if you don’t tell him that you ran into me on your way out.”

Arcee gave him an odd look. “You’d go against Optimus?”

“I’m not going against, so much as admitting that his plan had its shortcomings.” Starscream crossed his legs. “And I’m smart enough to know that I can’t stop you. You’ve decided to do this, no matter what your CO says. I know if I tried anything you’d kick me in the shin-pad, and I’m already in pain. No thanks.”

“Damn right,” Arcee smirked. Her expression shifted. “You’re really not going to stop me?”

“Why bother? You’re no seeker. You’re going to be going in circles through the desert. It’ll be hilarious.”

Arcee glared. “It can’t be that easy. I know you. You don’t do something for nothing. I’m surprised you’re not asking me for anything in return.”

“Well, now that you mention it....”

“I knew it.” Arcee put her servos on her hips. “What do you want?”

“Nothing too serious,” Starscream said, a smile on his face-plate, belying the true reason he wanted to get her help. He couldn't let her see that he felt weak. He wouldn't let anyone see it. “I want you to train me. Privately.”

“I thought we were training you,” Arcee said, very confused. "Secretly."

“The team is,” Starscream said, “but I want you to privately train me. Your frame is similar to mine.”

“You’re delusional. I’m a ground form, you’re a seeker.”

“Yes, but you’re not a great huge ground form with lots of bulk. You’re streamlined like I am. You’re slender like I am. I know Bee, Smokey and Bulkhead are trying, but they just don’t get it. They don’t really...It’s like you said about Optimus. They’re used to being big and bulky, and being able to use brute force to get what you want. They don’t really get what it’s like to not be able to shoulder your foes out of the way."

Arcee nodded. “I get it. I had my own problems in the cause when I first joined. When Optimus chose me for his elite team, there was a lot of surprise. I can train you. That’s not too hard. You want to know how to throw around mechs three times your size? I’m your femme.”

“Thank you.” Starscream beamed at her. “It means a lot that you’d be willing to help. Though I have some experience throwing bigger mechs around, I don’t think that would work on the battlefield.”

Arcee returned his earlier rude gesture and walked over to the ground-bridge generator controls, looking at them thoughtfully. “So, if you’re planning to be in here all night...”

“You can bridge there. I’ll close it.”

Arcee entered the sequence to activate the portal. “Bridge me back?” She asked.

Starscream nodded. “I’ll be up playing for a while yet.” Starscream unpaused the game, ready to get back to practicing. He still needed to get Bumblebee back for kicking his aft, Arcee’s secret mission be damned.

“Hey,” Arcee called out. Starscream looked up. “Thanks,” Arcee said, giving him a small smile before disappearing into the bridge. Starscream sighed, paused the game, and closed the bridge behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was....a long one. It took longer to write than I anticipated, between the sheer length and term papers also demanding my attention, but I hope it was worth it. I added a little spice to bring it all together. 
> 
> So, a note: The idea of Knock-Out and Smokescreen racing together is not from the show, but rather a way to pay tribute to "Need for Speed" by LoBennettReads: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932791/chapters/1815490. I enjoyed that fic so much and I re-read it once every few months, and I loved the idea of the whole thing and I decided to put it in as a plot point. And honestly...did anyone expect Knock-Out to stop racing? Really?
> 
> Another note: Things are happening in a different order/way than they did on the show. It's an alternate timeline. Hopefully, I can be forgiven for using my artistic license a little bit. 
> 
> I always envisioned Arcee as a femme working with mechs, even before the war. TF Wiki didn't have much backstory on her, but I always saw her as someone who worked hard and held her own with the boys. She's got a bit of the "action girl" trope, but I like it. 
> 
> Smokescreen and Knock-Out will meet again. Soon. Very soon. ;)
> 
> Love you guys. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This fic has a soundtrack! Take a listen on YouTube (https://bit.ly/2YPpiot) or on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VfJknHwSjcX0Nm8blHTRT?si=OBNT-HGsTPeXd6SKUWMXNw)
> 
> I've made two Optimus Prime/Starscream fanvideos on my YouTube channel too, so please check those out!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/ and the official (tm) Tumblr for this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/promisemeyouwontletmefall


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